


Zuko Gets His Xbox Taken Away (And Other Such Tales)

by WenchicusThoticus



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Centricide - Freeform, Communism, Crack, Dark Humor, Fire Nation Royal Family, Gen, Homophobia, Humor, I post cringe and there's nothing you can do about it, IKEA, Lesbian Azula (Avatar), Libertarians & Libertarianism, Marijuana, Meta, Nonbinary Character, Parody, Politics, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Sexual Tension, The Criminalization of Anime, Video & Computer Games, Wish Fulfillment, almost wholesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-20 04:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 42
Words: 21,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19986055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WenchicusThoticus/pseuds/WenchicusThoticus
Summary: One-shots from the Fire Nation including Zuko getting his Xbox taken away, Ursa’s black market quests, and Ozai choosing a title for himself that isn’t “Phoenix King.” Crack, AUs. No adult content, rated T for language, drug references.





	1. Zuko Gets His Xbox Taken Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozai has a reasonable reaction to Zuko talking out of turn at the war meeting, but things still end badly for both of them. AU.   
> Characters: Ozai, Zuko.

After the meeting ended, Ozai sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Come here, I need to talk to you, Zuko.” The generals filed out of the war room — all but the one who Zuko had interrupted. “You can’t talk over my senior officers. Remember, you’re here to observe and to learn. After all, one day, that’ll be yours.” He pointed towards the throne.

“And before you speak out of turn again,” said the disgruntled general, “yes — it is not ideal to send our troops on a suicide mission, but sometimes, we’re forced to make sacrifices to ensure our victory for the greater good.”

“But I still don’t think that it’s fair,” Zuko protested.

Ozai put a hand on his son’s shoulder to comfort him. “I understand, but if we don’t do this, it may cost us the whole war. And what about all of our soldiers who have already died? If we lose the war, then all of their lives would have been taken for nothing. Do you understand why this is necessary?”

“Yeah, I guess it makes sense,” he admitted, still a bit indignant.

“I want you to apologize,” Ozai prompted.

“Sorry,” Zuko said, pressing his fist into his open hand and bowing to the general.

“You are forgiven. But make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he muttered, and Zuko followed it up with a quick “yes sir.”

“You are dismissed, General,” Ozai said. “Zuko, we still need to talk.”

“Are you gonna burn my face off and banish me?” asked the prince.

“What? No. That would be a complete overreaction. Well, it would be either that or a poorly veiled excuse to get rid of you. And I don’t want to get rid of you because you’re my son and I care about you.”

Zuko smiled, so happy to have a father who loved him. “Thanks Dad.”

“But I’ll still have to punish you,” Ozai said firmly. “I’ve decided to take your Xbox away, son.”

“What!?” Zuko burst out, passing through the five stages of grief within mere seconds. He crossed his arms and asked, “When am I getting it back?”

Ozai laughed jovially. He put an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and steered him out the war room. “Oh, I don’t know, after you capture the avatar for me?” he joked, ruffling Zuko’s hair, which was hard to do thanks to the prince’s unstylish ponytail. 

Zuko grew serious, his gaze hardening. “If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.”

—

The next morning, Ozai was overseeing the departure of the ships he’d authorized to leave in yesterday’s war meeting — but he spotted something unexpected.

“Zuko? What are you doing?” he asked upon seeing the prince loading up a dinky little ship that looked totally out of place beside the naval fleet.

“I’m going to capture the avatar and restore my Xbox privileges,” Zuko decreed. Shortly thereafter, the plank lifted, and Ozai could only stare in disbelief as the ship pulled away from the dock. 

“Goodbye, Father!” Zuko shouted, waving at him from the deck of the ship as he grew smaller and smaller — further away with every passing second.

This was what finally pulled Ozai out of his shocked inaction. He rushed towards the end of the dock, suddenly imbued with a frantic worry. What if Zuko couldn’t take care of himself? He was only twelve! What if he did something reckless and got hurt? Ozai would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to his darling son.

“Wait! It was just a joke! I’ll give you your Xbox back! Please! Come home, son!” he yelled from the shore. “Please…”

A single tear slid down his cheek. If only he hadn’t been so cruel.


	2. Black Market Goods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ursa needs something on the black market.  
> Characters: Ursa

Only a few weeks ago, Ursa’s second child had come into the world. Her husband had insisted on naming the girl after his father, and so they had called her Azula.

It was the thought of her daughter, or more specifically, her name, that drove Ursa to the lower ring of Caldera City on that night. She easily could have sent a servant to the market in her place, but sometimes, she needed a break from palace life. Having come from a simple family in a small village, she liked to reconnect with her roots from time to time and escape the pressures of royalty.

She stopped in front of a booth that sold clothing and fabric. It was entirely possible that someone would recognize her, even in the low lighting, so she pulled her hood further down over her face and shifted her scarf up to cover her chin.

“Can I help you, miss?” asked the woman working at the kiosk. Ursa scanned the display, finding that there was indeed a section for children and babies.

But something about it was wrong.

“Yes,” she said. “Do you have anything… a little different?”

“How so?” the woman questioned. “Surely you don’t mean…”

Ursa leaned in and whispered, “I want something that’s a color other than red. I want something… blue.”

The kiosk worker stiffened, her eyes widening at the risk of facilitating such a request, but she complied. “Follow me.”

Ursa tailed the woman into the alleyway behind the booth. She pulled her cloak tighter around her body, suddenly feeling unsafe in the dingy, unlit backstreet.

All the way at the back of the alley, the worker heaved aside a few bags of her other merchandise to reveal a small collection of fabric straying from the red, gold, and black colors typical of Fire Nation garb. Curious, Ursa couldn’t help herself from examining the other black market goods hidden with the pile of clothing — an air nomad pendant, cactus juice, cannabis, birth control pills, the book Old Yeller (banned because the dog dies), the movie Footloose (banned for promoting dancing), The Communist Manifesto (banned for promoting the overthrow of the social order), and the concept of fun (banned because fuck you).

“Please, be quick, and be discreet,” the woman told her, rubbing her hands together anxiously. Her gaze darted around to see if they were being watched as Ursa rummaged through the illegal goods.

After a moment, and heeding the kiosk worker’s warning, Ursa selected a pale blue blanket from the pile. “I’d like this one,” she whispered.

The woman produced a sack and crammed the blanket inside. “Make sure no one sees you with this, and tell no one where you got it!” she warned.

“I won’t,” Ursa reassured her. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She paid for the blanket, and the kiosk worker ranted and raved, “Bless your heart, miss. Why must you tempt fate? I know not whether you are foolish or brave for coming here. Only Agni knows why you need such a thing.”

“Thank you,” Ursa replied, ignoring the woman’s swears and prayers for her, and left the alley the way she had come. 

Everyone knew that the royal family was above the law, especially when two of its members were named after blue in spite of the ban on the color. She only hoped that Azula would like the blanket.

And maybe, while she was at it, she had picked up some cannabis for herself.

“Smoke weed every day,” Ursa whispered as she lit the fuck up.


	3. The Fucking Fire Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozai chooses a new title for himself.  
> Characters: Ozai, Azula

“No… no… that’s not right,” Ozai muttered to himself, crossing out yet another idea on the piece of parchment before him. With the comet arriving, his coronation was only hours away and he still hadn’t decided on a new title. He sure couldn’t keep going by Fire Lord, he had settled on that much. “Supreme Emperor… Glorious Sovereign… Greatest King Of All Time… Basically A God… These are all me, but…”

He tapped his quill on the page, deep in thought. And then, like an explosion going off in a village of innocent Earth Kingdom civilians, it hit him. 

“Perfect.”

—

“BuT DaD! It WaS mY iDeA tO BuRn EveRyThInG tO tHe GrOuNd!” Azula whined in the middle of what was about to turn into Ozai’s sweet ass coronation ceremony.

Ozai hushed her. “You have a more important duty to attend to,” he explained impatiently. “You are to become the new fire lord.”

“Oh damn that’s lit!” Azula shouted, but she pulled it together upon realizing that this was inappropriate (if not treasonous) behavior. “Uh, I meant to say, but… but what about you?”

“Me? I have an even greater destiny.” Bass-boosted gangsta rap began to play from the row of speakers blocking the spectators from getting their filthy peasant hands anywhere near the royal family. Ozai raised his arms up above his head triumphantly as a pair of servants hung a bunch of golden necklaces with dollar sign pendants around his neck.

“Fire Lord Ozai is no more! From this day forward, I shall be known as… Fucking Fire Lord Ozai!” he announced, and the crowd went bonkers.

“Sweet, does that mean that I’m the Fucking Princess?” Azula piped up again.

“No, dumbass. I just told you that you get to be the regular fire lord,” he barked. Goddamn kids. Ruining his special moment. But his good mood quickly returned because it was simply such a wonderful day and such a grand Fucking Coronation Ceremony.

“All right,” Ozai declared, determination and Fucking Power surging through him. “Now it’s time to fight the Fucking Avatar and destroy the Fucking World.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last idea I have for now. I take requests.


	4. Zuko Gets His Xbox Taken Away (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After capturing the avatar, Zuko expects to get his Xbox back, but that's not how things work out.  
> Characters: Ozai, Aang, Zuko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by LapisDIDNOTHINGwrong101

Three long years had passed since Ozai had made the joke that had cost him his son. He gazed sadly at a photo of Zuko’s beautiful, innocent face with no scar on it that he had sitting in his office.

Without any warning, somebody kicked through the door like the beginning of the timeless masterpiece that is the first Shrek movie. 

“Father, I have captured the avatar!” Zuko announced. “Where’s my Xbox?” He turned to the bald little kid lingering behind him. “Oh, yeah, Aang, meet my dad, and Dad, this is Aang. Where’s my Xbox?” he repeated obnoxiously.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Fire Lord,” Aang said pleasantly.

It was a all little much for Ozai to process at once. Firstly, he was disappointed that his beloved firstborn, whom he hadn’t seen in three years — three years he had spent diverting significant resources from the war effort and into finding his son, three years worrying if Zuko would ever come home, three years crying himself to sleep — he was disappointed that Zuko cared more about reuniting with his Xbox than with his own father. 

Secondly, Zuko had deadass caught the avatar simply because Ozai had made a joke about it. It made his heart (which was very much not cold and dead) swell with pride and affection (although he loved his son no matter what happened). Not to mention that the avatar didn’t even seem to mind being about as deep in enemy territory as was physically possible.

Thirdly, he didn’t think he had it in him to tell Zuko what had happened to his Xbox.

“Can I have it back now?” Zuko barked impatiently.

“I, uh… I let your sister use it,” Ozai said quietly. “And… and she broke it.”

Zuko’s eyes began to fill with tears. “N-Nothing that can’t be fixed, right? We can just… take it to the shop?”

“She kind of… set it on fire.” 

“She set it on fire?!” Zuko burst out, gearing up for the temper tantrum of the ages.

“I’ll get you a new one! I’ll, I’ll get you an Ouya!” Ozai tried desperately to placate his son.

“Ouya is dead, Dad! If you really loved me, you’d buy me a PlayStation! You don’t know anything! You don’t understand me!”

As Zuko ran away sobbing, Ozai and Aang awkwardly stared at each other in silence until Ozai finally spoke. “So, uh… an airbender. I’ve never met one of those before…” He laughed nervously as he realized that he had maneuvered himself into a bad spot. “Guess that’s because… we killed you all.” He scratched his head and looked anywhere other than into Aang’s impenetrable gaze. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

He cleared his throat. “Look, uh, I know you’re ‘destined to defeat me’ or whatever, but you’re a lot younger than I expected, so why don’t you just go home? …Right, because everyone at home is dead. That’s why. What I mean to say is that I want it to be fair when we… fight. Probably to the death.”

Aang stared at him impassively.

“Or I don’t want to be humiliated by losing a battle to a child. It could go that way too,” he offered.

Aang still said nothing, staring into his soul (which he definitely had).

“Listen, kid, just leave!” Ozai shouted. “There’s no place for you here! Go master all the elements, or whatever it is that you’re supposed to do!”

“I wanted to play Xbox with Zuko,” Aang said.

Ozai sighed, so close to losing it. “All right. Fine. I’ll buy Zuko a new Xbox. And you can stay here and play it with him.”

All in all, Ozai decided, things hadn’t turned out as badly as they could have. If he won the avatar over to their side, then he wouldn’t have to harm a child (which was just such an abhorrent idea to him) in some sort of deadly final battle. 

And best of all, Zuko was home, alive and healthy. Even if he was an ungrateful little shit.


	5. But Dad, The Fire Nation Is Based On Japan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko pays the price for his guilty pleasure.  
> Characters: Ozai, Zuko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by man sac balls

Zuko slammed his laptop shut in alarm as soon as he heard the bedroom door open. “Oh, hey Dad,” he said as innocently as he possibly could.

“What were you doing before I came in here?” Ozai asked suspiciously, scanning the room. His gaze fell upon Zuko’s laptop and the boy’s hands pressing down on it hard, as if he was fighting to keep in from springing back open.

“Just watching porn,” Zuko replied nervously. He knew that Ozai didn’t care if Zuko wanted to explore his sexuality. It was a natural part of growing up, after all. His father had walked in on him watching three women spanking each other with chainsaws, reading erotic fanfiction about himself (getting with some girl named Katara who he’d never met…), and plenty of other unsavory things, but it didn’t bother either of them.

But Ozai saw right through the ruse. “Show me your computer,” he demanded.

With agonizing slowness, Zuko opened his laptop up to reveal… 

“WHY ARE YOU WATCHING ANIME!?” Ozai screeched, instantly losing his temper. 

“I just wanted to see what it was like,” he sobbed, cowering.

“DON’T LIE TO ME, BOY! HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?”

“It’s Azula’s fault! She dared me! And then I couldn’t stop! It’s an addiction. Please, forgive me, Father!” Zuko cried. “I can get help!”

Ozai yeeted Zuko’s sinful laptop out the window, and glass shattered. “AND WHAT ARE THESE?” he shouted upon spotting some swords poking out from under Zuko’s bed. “ARE THESE KATANAS?”

“They’re dual broadswords!” Zuko wept uselessly.

“I WON’T HAVE ANY WEEBS IN THIS HOUSE!” Ozai screamed. The katanas/dual broadswords shortly followed the computer out the broken window.

“But Dad, the Fire Nation is based on Japan!” Zuko protested feebly.

“I WON’T HEAR SUCH SLANDER! YOU’RE BANISHED! OH, GOD! IS THAT A BODY PILLOW UNDER YOUR BLANKET!?”

“Yes, it is! I’m so sorry! Please don’t banish me! I’ll get rid of everything! It’ll be like it never happened!”

Ozai’s demeanor suddenly turned deadly calm. “No, Zuko. It will be like YOU never happened. Get out now, and don’t come back until you’ve atoned for the disgrace you have brought upon this family.”

He slammed the door shut, leaving Zuko alone to hug his Hatsune Miku body pillow and cry.


	6. Gamer Girl Bathwater (Or, Zuko Gets His Xbox Taken Away Part 1.5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko hunts down another gamer who keeps beating him, and finds that he’s in for a little surprise…  
> Characters: Zuko, Iroh, and a surprise ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by gh0stwriter

Rain pelted down onto the metal hull of the ship, and thunder crashed. The gloomy, miserable day was fading into night and the storm was still raging on as violently as ever, but Prince Zuko was curled up in his room, wrapped in layers of blankets and nestled snugly in his gamer chair. Even after scouring the globe for two years, the avatar continued to elude him, and it was really starting to wear down his (already virtually nonexistent) patience.

The door to his chambers creaked open. “Your Totino’s pizza rolls, Prince Zuko,” said Iroh as he stepped inside.

“Thanks, Uncle. I’m almost out of Mountain Dew, could you get me another bottle from the hold?” Zuko asked without looking away from his screen. Desperate to placate him, Iroh had bought an old, beat-up Xbox 360 to temporarily replace the newer console that Ozai had so cruelly confiscated from him.

“Why not have some tea?” asked Iroh rather predictably, because tea and wisdom are Iroh’s only two personality traits in crackfic. “It’s great weather for a warm drink. Although, there is no wrong time for tea.”

Zuko suddenly threw his controller down in frustration. “This guy keeps beating me!” he whined. 

Iroh set down the pizza rolls. “There, there, Nephew. Remember, the only one who can ever defeat you is yourself. As long as you resolve to get up and try again, you are never truly defeated. When I laid siege to Ba Sing Se—”

Zuko rudely interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear your priceless wisdom and your old man war stories, Uncle! I want the avatar! I want my old Xbox back, not this piece of junk!” He threw off his blankets and breathed some smoke out of his nostrils. “And I want to find the asshole who keeps beating me, and when I do, I’m gonna wring his neck!”

Bitchily, he stormed away, slamming the door behind him. Iroh, alone with the pizza rolls, glanced around to see if anyone was watching, then devoured the whole tray and washed it down with the rest of the Mountain Dew, effectively activating his Gamer Mode. He sat down to play, clearing levels and stages that had stumped Zuko for days on just about every game in the collection. 

Finally, he got back to playing Minecraft, seeing that the other gamer who had kept beating Zuko’s bitch ass in PvP mode was still online. 

“‘UrMom14,’” he read aloud. “Who are you…?”

—

The next morning, Zuko burst into Iroh’s room like the Kool Aid Man. “I tracked his IP address,” he announced triumphantly. “Come on, Uncle, let’s turn the ship around!”

Iroh had been sound asleep, and he found himself confused by all the sudden activity. “…Who?” he asked.

“The guy who kept beating me yesterday! I’m going to bust down his front door and torch his Xbox so he’ll never humiliate me again!”  
“I think you are the one humiliating yourself,” Iroh grumbled, rolling out of bed with a great deal of effort.

“What?” Zuko barked.

“Nothing.”

“Then let’s go!”

—

It turned out that UrMom14 lived in the Southern Water Tribe. Zuko scoffed. “I should have known. Those peasants! Of course they couldn’t afford the latest console. They’re poor. Why else would they be using an Xbox 360?”

The village cowered from the hulking Fire Nation ship (even though it was about a quarter a size of a regular Fire Nation navy ship, if one was being generous). Zuko stepped out onto the frozen tundra and declared to the pitiful assembly of blue-clad plebeians, “Will UrMom14 step forward?” The longer he looked, the more uncertain he felt that he had the right place. There were just a bunch of little kids and old ladies here.

Then he saw the other boy. “It’s YOU!” he shouted, spotting a kid about his age among the gathering, wearing ridiculous face-paint and brandishing some sort of weird curvy stick.

He prepared to charge, but a girl jumped into his path and seized his arm before he could rain down fire and devastation upon this defenseless village for one of its inhabitants beating him at a video game.

“No, ScarlessPrince01, I am UrMom14,” she spoke with a fierceness that stirred his loins… and his heart.

He began to tear up. “A… a gamer girl?” he choked out. “But, but I thought they were just a myth! A lie told just to taunt oppressed gamers like me and make us think that we would never find the ideal woman! I don’t care that you kept beating me, or that you’re a peasant from an inferior race — will you come home with me? We can play my Xbox One together, if you just happen to know where the avatar is—”

“I’ll sell you some of my bathwater if you leave me and my people alone,” Katara offered.

“Deal,” Zuko agreed without a moment’s hesitation.

From then on, Zuko was eager to get back online to get his ass kicked. He largely ignored his first-person shooter games that were oh so cathartic for a teenage boy filled with rage such as himself in favor of Minecraft. And he vaped his gamer girl bathwater until there was just a drop left, which he wore around on an amulet around his neck for safekeeping, and so he’d always have the memory of Katara close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know jack shit about video games and I’m sorry if it shows. Didn’t expect to keep getting requests for me to write about Zuko’s adventures with his Xbox.


	7. Honor Is A Societal Construct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iroh drops some truth bombs.  
> Characters: Iroh, Zuko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could've played this one seriously, but that's not why we're here.

Iroh was getting real fuckin’ tired of running around the globe (or the flat earth, if that’s what you believe, you absolute nutjob) in search of a demigod who no one had seen in a century. He was too old for this shit, and he just wanted to enjoy his retirement in peace, but unfortunately, his nephew needed his guidance if he were to avoid self-destructing at every instance of failure.

“Uncle! In here!” Zuko cried, impulsively setting fire to some poor Earth Kingdom peasant’s house.

Iroh sighed and followed him into the burning building. They had been terrorizing this village all day in search of the vaguest clue that might possibly lead them to the avatar. “What is it now, Zuko?”

“They were hiding this old scroll!” Zuko waved a crumpled piece of parchment at him. It was blank except for an arrow. “Clearly a reference to airbender tattoos!” he cried maniacally.

“…No, that’s just a sign pointing to the event this family was hosting.” Iroh took the paper and unfolded it, revealing text that read ‘Free My Little Pony Body Pillows This Way.’

“Uncle! We have to track them down and force answers out of them! I won’t rest until I’ve captured the avatar!”

This was what finally depleted the last of Iroh’s immense reserves of patience. He needed some goddamn rest, and Zuko’s inhuman amount of determination wasn’t going to stop him.

He pulled out two chairs from the table, which were on fire, and gestured fruitlessly for Zuko to sit down as well. “I know this may be difficult for you to hear, Prince Zuko,” he said, “but our chances of finding the avatar are virtually nonexistent.”

“I know he’s out there!” Zuko insisted. “We haven’t looked hard enough!”

“Zuko. Look at me.” Zuko stayed still and listened for about a split second, which was long enough for Iroh to gear up to drop some Truth Bombs. “Your dad doesn’t fucking love you. And he never will. Don’t take it personally, as he may not even be capable of such a feeling. You cannot please him by completing an impossible task. He sent you on this mission because he wanted to get rid of you.”

Zuko started to tear up. Maybe Iroh had been too harsh with him, but the kid had to learn sooner or later before he wasted his whole life chasing airbending Jesus. Meanwhile, the house burned down around them, and they both sat there like the “this is fine” dog from the KC Green comic.

“Oh, and honor is a societal construct that humans invented to promote social cohesion. It’s not real, Zuko, so you ought to stop worrying about it,” Iroh added. “Your father may not love you… but I do. No matter what.”

Zuko wept. Was he sad that Iroh had revealed to him what he had known in his heart to be true all along, or he was happy that someone cared about him unconditionally? Perhaps both.

“Now let’s get out of this shitshack,” Iroh said warmly. “We’ll forget about finding the avatar, and instead we’ll find some motherfucking tea.”


	8. The Fire Nation Tries Anarcho-Capitalism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once Ozai is dethroned, Zuko decides to make a few changes to the government…  
> Characters: Zuko, Aang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by libertarian_firelord

“…And begin a new era of peace and love,” Zuko concluded his coronation speech. He knelt as the fire sages crowned him. 

“All hail Fire Lord Zuko!” they cried out, and the crowd echoed. 

Surely, Zuko’s subjects were pleased that the century-long war was coming to an end, but if he really wanted to usher in that new era he’d promised, then he’d have to change some government policies to truly win over the hearts of the people.

“I’ve decided to abolish taxes,” he announced. Sons and fathers no longer dying in a meaningless conflict that had raged on for all of living memory? That was nice, but no more taxes? Now that was a cause for celebration!

“Zuko, how can you get rid of taxes?” Aang hissed out the corner of his mouth, still smiling for the sake of the event. Cheers shook the ground and various champagne corks flew through the air as those assembled lost their shit. “How are you going to pay for, like, roads?”

“Who needs roads when you can fly by shooting fire out of your feet?” Zuko scoffed. “Taxation is theft! If the market demands it, then a private company will fill that need.”

“Is this just an excuse not to do your job?” Aang accused him. “As the avatar, I understand — it’s a lot to be thrust into such an important role while you’re still just a kid, but your friends will be with you—”

“Aang, buddy, it’s time for the Fire Nation to give up tyranny and try out anarcho-capitalism,” Zuko explained. He grabbed the mic again (seriously, how the hell did everyone hear him in this scene) and cried, “And I’m legalizing drugs! All of them! And the color blue! And dancing! And porn! And guns!”

“Guns? But I thought you said you wanted to begin a new era of peace!”

“There can be no peace while one’s individual rights are trampled upon! Also I’m legalizing slavery!”

“Slavery!?”

“You really think that unregulated capitalism isn’t going to lead to slavery?” Zuko scoffed again, pulling away from the mic. “That’s the price of a true free market, kiddo. And don’t tell them, but I’m abolishing the state too. Like, I’ll still be around if we need to use the military, but actually I wanted to go back to Sun Warrior Island to breed some dragons. I’m going to sell their eggs. See you guys later.”

Aang stood there stunned as Zuko summoned a dragon from the skies and peaced the fuck out.

“You know, I was technically the one who won the Agni Kai,” Katara said, pushing her way through the rioting crowd and towards Aang. “Which makes me the fire lord.”

“Great. So you have a solution to this whole mess?” Aang asked hopefully.

“A whole dynasty toppled in a few short days?” Comrade Katara smirked devilishly. “I’m going to name myself communist dictator.”


	9. Zuko Violates The Non-Aggression Principle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continued from "The Fire Nation Tries Anarcho-Capitalism"  
> Characters: Zuko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by Iris_Quincy_Rosewood

Zuko soared through the clear blue skies on the back of his mighty dragon, by the second growing further away from the corrupt life of a monarch that he’d never truly wanted. “No, Dad, I’m not giving up on MY dream, I’m giving up YOURS,” he muttered to himself.

He reached the Sun Warrior island while it was still light out, landing on the bridge where the dragons had breathed rainbow fire at them and he’d done that gay ass little dance with Aang. He was about to make more money than most people would see in their lifetime, and he was gonna do it by selling dragon eggs.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but to feel betrayed. It was too bad that Aang had turned out to be a libtard. They’d had a real special moment on this bridge, and of course, Aang had played a vital role in establishing Zuko’s anarcho-capitalist paradise by deposing Ozai.

A clutch of eggs rested just past the entrance to one of the caves, and Zuko approached stealthily, quietly humming “How Bad Can I Be” from the Lorax movie.

“Ah, Prince Zuko,” said a voice from the darkness. The Sun Warrior chieftain emerged from the shadows of the cave. “What brings you back here?”

“Actually, it’s Dragon Industries CEO Zuko now,” Zuko corrected him. “If you don’t mind, could I see those eggs real quick?”

The warrior regarded him with suspicion. “And why is that?”

“…To sell them?” Zuko answered sheepishly. “I’ll buy them off you, if that’s what it takes. Trust me, I’ve got the cash. I have a rich daddy, so you know this is well-earned money on my part.”

“Didn’t you learn anything from when you tried to grab that egg the first time? They aren’t for sale. Dragons are endangered, and we need to protect the few breeding pairs that are left.”

“I’ll give you twenty percent of the profits. No, make it thirty. We’ll be business partners!”

The chieftain shook his head, realizing that reasoning with Zuko wasn’t going to work. “You know that this is private property you’re trespassing on, right?”

Zuko gasped in horror. This was worse than the time that Azula had burned his copy of Atlas Shrugged! “Oh no!” he cried. “I’m violating the non-aggression principle! Oh God, I’m so sorry, I’ll leave right away, please don’t send your private police force after me!”

“…We won’t,” the chieftain responded. “Just give us back the dragon you rode here, and don’t return to our island.”

Weeping, Zuko swam back to the Fire Nation mainland through the filthy publicly owned ocean. Maybe anarcho-capitalism was going to be harder than it looked.


	10. Avatar (Gotta Catch That Boy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko sings about his life.  
> Characters: Zuko

Despite drifting through the frozen wastes of southern ocean, Zuko was in a rare good mood. After nearly three years, he’d finally captured the avatar — only for him to slip away — but he knew now that the task was possible. In fact, he was currently in such a good mood that he began to sing,

“I wanna be the fire lord  
Like my father before me  
Genocide is my real test  
Honor is my cause

I will travel across the land  
Searching far and wide  
The avatar won’t live to understand  
The power that’s inside

Avatar, gotta catch that boy  
It’s you and me, Uncle.  
I know it’s my destiny!  
Avatar! Oh, you’re my worst enemy  
In a world I must conquer

Avatar, gotta catch dat boi!  
A fire so violent  
My anger will pull us through  
You evade me and I hunt you, avatar.  
Gotta catch that boy, gotta catch that boy.

Every challenge along the way  
With determination I will face  
I will suffer every day  
To eradicate your race

Come with me Uncle, the time is right  
The avatar has been seen.  
For my father to love me  
Has always been my dream!

Avatar, gotta catch that boy  
It’s you and me, UNCLE.  
I know it’s my destiny  
Avatar! Oh, you’re my worst enemy  
In a world I must conquer

Avatar, gotta catch dat boi  
A fire so violent  
My anger will pull us through  
You evade me and I hunt you, avatar.  
Gotta catch that boy, gotta catch that boy.”

Sure, he’d been banished for watching anime. But would that really matter when he defeated the biggest threat to his nation?


	11. The Ending We All Deserved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't want this to happen, I'm judging you.  
> Characters: Zuko, Ozai

“Since you’re a full blown traitor now and you want me gone, why wait? I’m powerless, you’ve got your swords… DEWIT,” Ozai barked like Palpatine. [Insert obligatory Mark Hamill joke here.]

“Well… if you insist,” Zuko said with a shrug, raising his weapons.

The condescending smirk dropped clean off Ozai’s face as Zuko prepared to utterly disembowel him. He scrambled to his feet and said, “Wait, you’re actually going to—?”

Zuko stabbed him right through his cold, dead heart, immediately terminating his miserable life.

“Yeet,” he said, and sheathed his swords. Justice had been served.


	12. The Fire Nation Tries Full Communism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Zuko is out trying to start his dragon egg business, Katara whips the Fire Nation into shape. Continued from “The Fire Nation Tries Anarcho-Capitalism” and “Zuko Violates The NAP.”  
> Characters: Aang, Katara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by nategoat

“Are you with me, Aang?” Katara prompted. Zuko’s coronation had erupted into chaos, but Katara was sure that she’d be able to get everyone back in line as only a communist dictator knew how.

“I don’t think that full communism is the answer either!” Aang protested. “We need something more moderate — more balanced. Balance! It’s what I was supposed to bring to the world! Please don’t do this, Katara.”

“You centrist pussy,” Katara muttered under her breath. She seized the microphone, much like the workers of the world would soon seize the means of production.

“Forget everything your ‘Fire Lord’ has just said,” she spoke. The crowd quickly fell quiet. “He has abandoned you to the whim of corrupt, greedy corporations that would sooner let you dine on the bones of your fallen comrades than throw you a scrap of food from their bountiful stashes of hoarded wealth. It is I who won the Agni Kai that was fought to determine you next leader, and in turn, you will flourish under my rule.”

No one clapped; they all just went back to chattering amongst themselves.

“Dammit, not this again,” she grumbled. Katara wasn’t sure if it was the racism, the sexism, or if they really hated taxes that much. Louder, she continued, “Guys… you realize that there aren’t any taxes under communism either. In fact, we won’t have money at all. You will exchange food stamps for bread, and after that, we will all starve.”

“We like the other guy more!” shouted a fool from the crowd.

“Guards! Throw that man in the gulag,” Katara commanded. Indeed, the guards swarmed upon the unfortunate dissenter, dragging him off kicking and screaming. Aang looked on in horror, his hopes for a peaceful future of equality and love falling away because all his friends were extremists who didn’t understand that centrists were politically ascended.

“Anyone else want to speak out against my glorious regime?” she offered, scouring the silent crowd. “That’s what I thought. Now, I have some laws I’d like to implement. First of all, I enjoy the whole red color scheme we’ve got going on here, so let’s keep that up. Secondly, the Fire Nation shall henceforth be known as the Fwere (‘f-WE-er’) Nation. Third, we must all address each other as ‘comrade.’ Fourth, I am banning everything that Prince Zuko un-banned…”

As she spoke, banners of Supreme Leader Katara unfurled all around the courtyard. Aang broke down into tears. The war had ended, but at what cost? The Fwere Nation had been liberated for a few brief moments, only for another totalitarian dictator to immediately take the reins.

She stepped away from the microphone to address her personal security force. “Guards, all threats to my rule must be… disposed of,” she said. “Take this icepick. I want you to eliminate Zuko. I don’t care if you have to follow him all the way to Mexico… wherever that is… I want him out of my way for good.”

“I don’t think Zuko has any real interest in being in power,” Aang frantically tried to dissuade her. He tugged on her arm to get her attention, but she paid him no heed.

“The bourgeoisie cannot be allowed to exist in my world. We will bring back the guillotine, and feast upon the rich. You’re either with us or against us, Aang, and believe me, you don’t want to be against us. Fwere Nation gulags were very flimsy, escapable entities before, but that will all change now that I am in charge.”

Aang gulped, and she stared into his soul. No one had ever said anything about what he was supposed to do after the war… 

“All… all right, Comrade Katara,” he said, and took her hand. “I’m with you.”


	13. High Treason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's one crime you don't want to commit in the Fire Nation.  
> Characters: Ozai

“…Your sentence is execution via boiling hot soup,” Ozai decreed. Yawning, he leaned back in his new reclining throne as guards dragged the criminal to his immediate demise.

More guards came forward with another felon. “My lord, we arrested this man for being poor,” one explained.

“Do elaborate. As you all know, the top priority in my court is justice.” The criminal’s expression brightened, a newfound sense of hope filling him. Ozai continued, “I’m just kidding. I don’t actually care.” Promptly, he burst into uproarious laughter. Crushing people’s dreams was the best part of his job. (That, and the palace’s high-speed 666G network.)

The criminal grew furious, thrashing and struggling against the guards’ grips. “You bastard! You, your father, and your grandfather have tainted the legacy of what was once a great nation! The blood of countless innocents is on your hands!”

Ozai guffawed at the criminal’s futile tirade. He was about to offer him a position as the court jester, but he unleashed a particularly cruel sentiment: “Your beard’s ugly!”

Ozai gasped, and his laughter ceased abruptly. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said your beard’s ugly!” the criminal spat.

“Guards! Have this man executed for high treason,” he commanded. “Get him out of my sight.”

As the guards dragged yet another kicking and screaming felon away to death row, Ozai self-consciously stroked his beard. 

“I think your beard is lovely, my lord,” said the guard at his right hand. 

“Thank you, Steve,” Ozai said, blushing. “You’re too sweet.”


	14. Aang's Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang gives Ozai a gift to help decorate his cell.  
> Characters: Aang, Ozai

Ozai glared at the little bald monk who’d been his only visitor in the last month. “What are you doing here? Come to torment me further, have you?” he hissed from the pile of hay that was now his only friend.

“No, I just wanted to see how were you doing,” Aang said timidly, anxiously twiddling his thumbs.

“I’m fantastic, thanks for asking. Avatar Roku’s ghost visits to slam trash can lids together and scream ‘you got beat up by Caillou’ at me in the dead of night.” Ozai rolled his bloodshot eyes and pulled his blanket tighter around him. He couldn’t stand to look at the boy any longer. “I haven’t slept in days.”

“Well, either way, I wanted to give you something.” Aang removed a slip of paper from his robe and passed it through the bars.

Ozai eyed the offering suspiciously, then grabbed and unfolded the sheet. “…Is this for me to eat?” he asked, puzzled.

Aang grinned. “No, it’s supposed to be you, made out of noodles! I thought you’d want it, with all the statues of you being torn down to usher in the new regime and whatnot…”

“Are you just rubbing it in, boy?” Ozai growled.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Maybe you could use it to decorate your cell. After all, you’re going to be here for a long time. Probably the rest of your life!”

“Get out!” Ozai roared.

“Okay, I couldn’t resist that one,” Aang snickered. “That was mean. Sorry.”

Ozai clambered to his feet, and held the noodle picture up against the wall, across from the pile of hay. “I think I’ll put it right here. How does that look?”

“I like it. I’ll come visit again, and I’ll bring real food next time. And I won’t make fun of you, either,” Aang promised. “See ya!”

“Thanks, kid.” Ozai cracked a weary smile for perhaps the first time since his imprisonment. Perhaps the noodle fanart would ward off the ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ‘you got beat up by Caillou’ line was stolen from this tumblr post (also linked is my visual interpretation of the situation in question): https://adventures-in-poor-planning.tumblr.com/post/188902457442/wenchicus-thoticus


	15. Ozai Drops The Soap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promise this one stays sfw.  
> Characters: Ozai

The cold shower water washed over Ozai’s grimy body. The prison allotted only two minutes for him to clean himself, not to mention that the water was freezing cold, so he washed up quickly.

That was when the soap slipped from his grip. He cursed under his breath and leaned over to grab it. His time was already running out, and he didn’t want to waste any more of it.

Before he could close his fingers around it, a hand was already beneath his. He looked up to meet the kind golden eyes of Steve, his favorite former palace guard. They shared a longing gaze, then Ozai pulled his hand away. Their fingers brushed again as Steve passed him the soap.

“Here you are, my lord,” Steve said with a winning smile that made Ozai smile, too.

“Thank you, Steve,” he replied. “You’re always there for me.”


	16. The Gayest Haircut The World Had Ever Seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula gets a haircut.  
> Characters: Azula, Ursa

It was the day of Azula’s coronation, and everything was going wrong. “All right, hair. It’s time to meet your doom,” she growled, taking a pair of scissors to her unruly bangs.

“What a shame. You always had such beautiful hair,” came a soft voice from behind her.

“M… Mother?” Azula stammered, disbelieving. She set down the scissors and stared into the mirror. “What are you doing? But while you’re here, could you, like… help me with my hair?”

“Sure thing, sweetie,” Ursa said. 

Minutes later, Azula had the gayest haircut the world had ever seen. She looked like she was about to declare the Fire Nation a lesbian commune (which, in her opinion, was much better than declaring it a stateless playground for the capitalist class like Zuko had always wanted, or a communist dictatorship like that peasant girl Katara). One side of her head was shaved, and the other had been cut short and dyed rainbow. She wasn’t sure how she was going to wear a topknot now, but she didn’t care because she looked fly as hell.

“Fucking dope, Mom,” Azula breathed in awe, running a hand back across the shaved portion of her scalp. Her day had just gotten much better. “Thanks. I’m gonna be eating pussy three meals a day looking like this.”

She turned around to hug Ursa, but she’d vanished. Confused, she checked the mirror again, and there she was, sitting peacefully and holding the scissors. 

“Wait, if you’re just a figment of my imagination, then who gave me this haircut?” Azula hissed.

“Smoke weed every day,” Ursa said, taking a hit on a phat blunt and promptly dissolving.

“All right, what the fuck,” Azula muttered to herself. “Someone’s getting executed for this.”


	17. Peace of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko chooses the wrong moment to wonder if Azula has the “peace of mind” supposedly required for lightningbending.  
> Characters: Azula, Katara, Zuko

“What, no lightning today? Afraid I’ll redirect it?” Zuko taunted.

“Zuko, don’t provoke her!” Katara hissed from behind him. 

Meanwhile, Azula staggered around like the author of this fic after one (1) glass of wine. “You traitorous fool!” she cried. “You should’ve been treated for dumb bitch disease before it progressed into the terminal stage!”

“Don’t worry Katara, Uncle told me that you need peace of mind to lightningbend, and something’s not right with my sister today,” Zuko reassured her.

Katara sighed. “I think that was just bullshit he made up to get you to stop being so moody and overdramatic.”

“That’s not true,” Zuko insisted. “My father learned to lightningbend after he disowned me, so that’s when he gained his peace of mind… And Uncle can lightningbend, and he’s chill as hell. He has peace of mind, except for the lingering trauma of his son’s death, a wound that will never heal despite how much he cares for me… Wait, that can’t be right…”

“I’ll show you lightning!” Azula screamed. “KACHOW!” Electricity shot out from her fingertips while Zuko was still pondering the fallibility of Iroh’s wisdom.

Zuko stopped thoughtfully stroking his chin and looked up as the lightning hit its mark. Katara sizzled. He was too late.

“Oh, shit…”


	18. But In A Good Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozai gets a new cellmate and experiences love for the first time. (Also stays sfw, I promise.)  
> characters: Ozai, and everyone's favorite: Steve

Prison overcrowding had always been a serious issue in the Fire Nation, but ever since Supreme Leader Comrade Katara had criminalized, well, just about everything, people were being thrown into the gulag more frequently than ever before. Look at a cannabis plant? Life sentence. Use the imperial system instead of metric? Life sentence. Mention the Cats 2019 movie? Life sentence, maybe execution. Give a retail employee a hard time? You don’t even want to know the punishment for that.

The point was that with all the new inmates flooding into the prison, Ozai was getting a cellmate. He had to admit, he wouldn’t mind the company, as all he could do in his solitary confinement was cry, tickle his pickle, and regret his life choices. Oh, and listen to Avatar Roku’s ghost yell “rise ’n’ shine, bitch boy” directly into his ear whenever he was just about to fall asleep.

The door to his cell swung open, and holding a blanket and a stuffed elk-tiger-fennec fox-Norwegian forest cat-bigfoot doll, in walked Ozai’s favorite former palace guard.

“Steve!” Ozai cried out joyously. His heart fluttered as though he had a serious cardiovascular disease and needed immediate medical attention. But in a good way. “You are my new cellmate, yes?”

Steve’s face lit up. “My lord! What a pleasant surprise! Yes, I am!” He dropped his blanket and stuffed animal (you think I’m typing out all that shit again?) and hugged his fire lord. Ozai’s flushed red, and face felt as though it had been set ablaze, but not in a Zuko way. In a good way. He wrapped his arms around Steve in return, understanding vaguely that he was supposed to reciprocate the gesture.

“Steve, I must tell you something,” he began. “I am quite relieved that you are the one with whom I must share this space. I greatly prefer your company to any of the other buffoons in this prison. You are my only source of joy in this bleak gulag. In fact…” He took a deep breath. His insides squirmed, like there were insects nesting inside them. But in a good way. “In fact, you are the only person who I might consider… my equal.”

Steve’s eyes shone with an emotion that was new to Ozai. A softness, a tenderness. Was this… what people called “love?” The love one person felt for another, and not the sort of lust he usually felt for power?

“I’m so honored,” Steve breathed. He caressed Ozai’s cheek. “You really mean it?”

“Steve, I would slaughter a thousand innocent civilians for you. I mean, I would do that anyway, but I would slaughter them in extra creative and cruel ways just to make you happy.” He had the strangest urge — he wanted to lean forward and bite Steve’s face. But in a tender way. In a good way. 

Steve brushed a stray hair from his forehead and tucked it gently behind his ear. “Aw, you don’t have to,” he said. “That’s so sweet.”

“Now, my loyal servant and friend, would you like to mash our faces together?” Ozai suggested. He felt lightheaded and giddy, like he had lost too much blood on the battlefield and needed to see a medic as soon as possible lest he slowly bleed out and perish, suffering a death most slow and agonizing. But in a good way.

“Absolutely,” Steve agreed.

Just as they were about to kiss, the door opened again, and a guard stepped in. “Warden says this is the wrong cell. Sorry, Steve, but your room is down the hall. This is your new cellmate, Mr. Ex-Fire Lord. She’s in for buyin’ weed off the black market.”

“Steve!” Ozai cried as guards carted away his only solace in the world. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes. Woe unto him, so this was heartbreak!

“My love!” Steve wept in return, struggling against the guards.

Ozai’s real new cellmate walked in, and his stomach practically dropped out of his anus. And definitely not in a good way.

He screeched. “Are you fucking serious? My ex-wife!?”


	19. Danny Or Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continued from last chapter.  
> Characters: Ursa, Ozai, Roku

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as suggested by Beckit

“Are you serious? You can’t hear him?” Ozai was huddled in the corner of the prison cell. The ghost of Avatar Roku popped another balloon in his ear, and he flinched.

“You’re losing your mind, bitch boy,” Ursa said without looking up, filing her nails with a knife.

“He always calls me that too!” Ozai cried. “Please, tell him to stop! Isn’t he, like, your uncle or something?”

Ursa rolled her eyes. “He’s my grandfather. Of course you’d forget. You always forgot our anniversary. And the kids’ birthdays. And their names. You were the worst.”

“Remember that time he forgot Zuko’s name, and he said ‘you know, he has the same name as that guy from Grease? I think it’s Danny or something?’” Roku’s ghost piped up.

“Oh yeah, that would’ve been really funny if it hadn’t been so sad,” Ursa laughed.

“So you CAN hear him!” Ozai burst out triumphantly, but Roku clapped right in front of his face, startling him into silence.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She threw her knife across the room, where it stuck in the wall.

“Okay, I don’t feel safe here,” Ozai said. The knife had landed right between the eyes of that noodle portrait Aang had given him.

“You’re in luck, because as much as I enjoy tormenting you, I don’t want to be here either,” Ursa said. She pulled a bong out of thin air, which Roku’s ghost graciously lit for her. “I hope to never see you again. Smoke weed every day.” Promptly, she dissipated into a cloud of smoke. 

“What the hell, Roku? AM I losing my mind?” Ozai asked once he’d stopped coughing. The smell of weed was the only evidence that she’d ever been there in first place.

“You’re asking a fucking ghost if you’re going crazy. You tell me,” Roku replied. There was another quiet moment between them as Ozai assessed his sanity.

That was when Roku started blaring country from a ghostly speaker, and Ozai screamed in frustration. “Will my torture ever end!?”


	20. The Fire Nation Tries Total Fucking Anarchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continued from the “Fire Nation Tries Anarcho-Capitalism/Full Communism” chapters.  
> characters: Zuko, Katara, Azula, a gang of roaming lesbians

Ever since the Sun Warriors had kicked him off their property in Chapter Nine, Zuko had been swimming through the publicly owned ocean and back to the palace. He rose from the depths of the sea, crawled onto the beach, and shook himself off like a wet dog.

Glancing up, he saw a man running across the sand towards him, wielding an ice pick. Zuko worried that he was on private property again, but he could smell the stench of communism heavy in the air, like desolate, cold wind rushing over the Siberian wastelands (wherever that was). 

The non-aggression principle meant nothing to these filthy leftists. He shot a bolt of lightning at his assailant, incapacitating him. (Oh yeah, he could lightningbend now. He had more money than God, so he had simply purchased the ability from a spirit.)

Something had gone awry in Zuko’s absence, and it had to be Katara’s doing. They’d put aside their differences and worked together to depose the old regime, but her talk of “seizing the means of production” and “eating the rich” had always unsettled him. Certainly, she had been the one to get in the way of his libertarian paradise.

Zuko snorted a line of cocaine with a hundred dollar bill, as he always did before business deals. In no time, he’d made his way from the beach to the palace, looking to negotiate with Katara. He sneaked into the throne room through a passage that his mother had used to smuggle in weed back in the olden days.

Katara was seated on the throne, signing the death warrants of three prisoners who’d baked brownies and failed to distribute them equally among the people, had let the standard-issue portrait of Supreme Leader Comrade Katara that was now in every household get dust on it, and eaten a banana sideways, respectively. (That’s a joke. Of course there was no food.)

“Katara!” Zuko boomed. “What have you done? This is not the future that the Fire Nation wants!”

“You! You should be dead!” Katara balked. “And that’s ten years in the gulag for not calling it the F-WE-re Nation! There is no ‘i’ in communism!”

“Yes, there is… It’s in the ‘-ism…’ Oh never mind…” he muttered. “I demand you step down! We deposed my father to end his tyranny, and now you have brought it back, worse than ever!”

“What you want is the tyranny of the bourgeoisie!” she cried, jumping to her feet, ready to fight.

A bolt of lightning shot through the ceiling, which cracked and broke as Azula descended into the throne room. While she’d been in the asylum, Ursa had continued to appear in her hallucinations, smoking weed with her, keeping her haircut looking fresh as hell, and ultimately radicalizing her to the left.

“Both of you are fools,” she said (actually, she’d come to realize that she was demigenderfluid, and was using they/them pronouns. In spite of this, they identified as a lesbian, in spite of not even considering themselves female anymore.) Their rainbow-dyed short hair fluttered in the breeze as they landed on the throne room floor. “Zuko, you’re not even a real fucking anarchist. Capitalism creates hierarchies, and anarchy is all about tearing those down! That’s basic shit, Zuzu. And you, Comrade Katara! You claim to be on the side of the people, yet you oppress them by throwing them in the gulag and stripping them of all their basic human rights!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be tolerant of people who are different than you?” Katara mocked. “Including those with different beliefs? That makes you the intolerant one!”

“SILENCE, TANKIE.” Azula shot laser beams from their eyes (lmao what a triggered snowflake who acts based on emotion and not reason). Meanwhile, Zuko wondered where he could buy this power.

“Look! Over there! Free drugs!” Katara shouted. Both Zuko and Azula turned, and she made a run for it. Guards closed in on them, but molotov cocktails were already flying. An army of angry lesbians with hair of various bright colors had followed Azula’s lead and crashed down through the ceiling.

Zuko took his chance and dashed after Katara. Even though he had the best lightningbending money could buy — and even though he was a main character and they were just nameless extras — there were just too many of them to fight off. If only he hadn’t lost his AK-47 sometime during his swim…

This was how Katara ended up on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Zuko had somehow purchased a super yacht during his escape, but she had deigned to indulge in such bourgeoisie nonsense, and floated on a driftwood raft.

Back on the mainland, Azula and their lesbian army had begun to liberate prisons, kill cops, and generally create a state of lawless mayhem. (Wait. A “state” of lawless mayhem? Fuck the state! What I meant to say is a “condition” of lawless mayhem.) Everything was on fire. Everybody had quit their jobs. The pack of roaming lesbians was putting banana peels all around the Fire Nation for cishet men to slip on. 

It was anarchy, and Azula smiled, eating a banana sideways so it didn’t look suggestive to any of the cishet men watching. 

Maybe this was what they’d been destined for all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> libleft azula is a new crytpid


	21. Real Fascist Bonding Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Water Tribe and Fire Nation supremacist find out that they have a lot in common after all.  
> Characters: Ozai, Sokka

Ozai crawled out from beneath a pile of burning banana peels and the rubble of the liberated gulag. All around him was chaos, and it crossed his mind that his country needed him again to set it back on its course to greatness, but all he could think of at that moment was finding Steve and making sure that he was okay.

“What’s up, dude, I’ve been looking for you,” a voice said from behind him.

“Who are you?” he rasped, spitting out gravel, half a banana, a My Little Pony doll, and a family of live frogs.

“Sokka’s the name,” the boy said jauntily, and Ozai turned around to get a look at him. What was this foreign peasant doing talking to him? “And I’ve come to make you a proposal.”

“I don’t need help from subhuman scum such as yourself,” he scoffed. “What even are you? Water Tribe or something?”

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t like you guys either, but I can help you get back into power. It’s sucked with all these commies running everything, but I’ve got an army of Water Tribe guys who are ready to stage a coup. Normally I would advocate for genocide of all firebenders, except we just don’t have the resources with all these godless anarchists going around destroying everything. So that’s where you come back in.”

“I don’t need your help to take back my rightful place on the throne.” Ozai stood up and brushed himself off. Several chickens and a tampon fell out of his hair, and he started crying at the thought of women’s natural biological processes.

“Oh, but you do. And once you have it, we’re gonna make another deal. You run your country however you want, but you leave the Water Tribe alone.” Sokka jabbed him in the chest to emphasize his point.

“But the Fire Nation is superior to all others, and I must spread our greatness!” Ozai cried.

“But just think about the cultural exchange that’s going on! Even coming into contact with other nations would taint the purity of the Fire Nation! Don’t you want to preserve your country’s traditions? I know I want to. And just think about…” It hurt him just to say it. He whispered, “Think about the interbreeding between firebenders and everyone else.”

Sokka and Ozai both shuddered at the thought of a mixed-race baby. Meanwhile, back on the super-yacht, Zuko and Katara were having violent hate sex.

“You’re so right,” Ozai breathed in awe. “I mean, interbreeding is basically genocide. I know! I should just kill all other races instead of having colonies.”

“No, no, no,” Sokka tried to convince him. “I leave you alone, you leave me alone. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal, right?”

“Aren’t you best friends with people of other races? Those Earth Kingdom girls? And the avatar?” Ozai asked.

“Oh, they’re exceptions to the rule of other races generally being made up of uncivilized demons,” Sokka explained.

“Other races are such uncivilized demons. That’s what I’ve been trying to say my whole life!”

“Don’t get me started on the foggy swamp tribe. Those guys are disgusting! Bleh!” He mimed gagging.

“And they control all the media.”

“It’s a conspiracy, I’m telling you!”

Sokka seated himself on a heap of rubble across from Ozai, and moment of silence came between them. They regarded each other with mutual respect.

“So, are you in?” Sokka asked. “We can literally never talk again after the coup goes down… even though I feel like there’s the beginning of a bond right here. Like, maybe a friendship that I could really treasure, but I’ll never know because I fear and hate what is different from me.”

“I’m in,” Ozai agreed. “Just one thing. Could you help me find my gay lover Steve? I’ve been looking for him since the prison—”

“Your gay lover!?” Sokka exploded, cutting him off. “You degenerate! Ugh, I knew firebenders were freaks! The deal’s off!”

As Sokka stormed away, Ozai muttered slurs under his breath. He should’ve known to never trust someone from the Water Tribe.


	22. Silent But Deadly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozai and Ursa look for an assassin to help them kill Azulon.  
> Characters: Ursa, Ozai, and some surprises ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by The EmeraldDoe

“Please can you let me kill Zuko? It would make things so much easier,” Ozai begged Ursa. “Please. I’ll stop leaving my dirty socks on the floor. I’ll stop calling him a little bitch whenever he fucks up a firebending form. After all, I can’t call him a little bitch if he’s dead!”

Ursa gave up on the “you can’t kill him because he’s our son and I don’t want him to die” argument. She had to try something else, and the idea that came to her was glorious. “What if we just killed your dad instead?” she suggested.

Ozai gasped in awe. “Ursa, you’re a fucking genius.”

“I know,” she said dismissively, and lowered her voice. “Listen, I, uh, know a guy. I know I’ve been telling you that I’m involved with shady black market people just for the weed… well, and the anarchist literature, but… I can hire someone to, y’know…” She made a slicing motion across her throat.

“Litty titty,” Ozai whispered.

“You’re gonna have to banish me for this. Just so it’s not suspicious,” she said. “And I can’t deal with you anymore, to be honest. You’re the worst person I’ve ever met. It’s especially annoying when you have bad dreams. You always call that one guard Steve into bed with us and have him hold you and caress your face until you fall back asleep. Listen, I’m gay too, but at least I have my trysts in private.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it bothered you so much!” Ozai groaned. “And you’re just gonna leave me with the kids? You know I can’t raise them on my own.”

“Just let your brother deal with them, and do not touch them.” She grabbed his shoulders. “Promise me right now that you won’t touch them.”

“Can I touch them with fire?”

Ursa sighed and made the horrible mistake of disregarding the statement. “Well, let’s meet our contestants,” she said.

The first hitman Ursa introduced to Ozai was a guy they called “Silent But Deadly.” They met him down in the opium den, right next to the reading-books-where-the-dog-dies den.

“So you’re, like, a ninja or something?” Ozai asked, extending his hand to shake.

Silent But Deadly said nothing.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He retracted his arm.

Silent But Deadly stared them down. He was silence. He was the sound between the notes of a song. He was the crowd holding its breath as the performer geared up for their final act. He was the emptiness of interstellar space. He was the calm before the storm. He was death.

“Can we find a different guy?” Ozai whispered, not daring to break eye contact with Silent But Deadly. His third eye did not blink.

“Yeah, this guy creeps me out, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to negotiate with him if he doesn’t talk,” Ursa whispered back.

They met the second assassin in a seedy bar on the outskirts of the city. She was what one could only call a “bad bitch,” and she was juggling men with one hand while holding seven mugs of beer in the other, which she chugged all at once.

“You know I don’t kill people,” she said once Ursa had pulled her aside. As they spoke, she beat up a man twice her size with only a pinky finger — and without looking. “I only track them down. What happens after that is none of my business.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving the palace soon, for good… and I want you with me,” Ursa murmured huskily into her ear.

The bounty hunter smiled slyly and raised her eyebrows. “In that case, just give me a time and a place to meet. I’d love to finally be able to spend more time with you…” She twirled a finger through Ursa’s hair. “Just thinking about all the things we could do together is making me—”

Ozai cleared his throat loudly. “What was it you said earlier about having trysts in private?”

“Oh, sorry,” she said. “I must be going. I have things to attend to, after all.” She left with a wink.

The third assassin they met in an alleyway. “Ursa, this is just a cabbage merchant,” Ozai said.

“No, he’s much more than that, I assure you,” she replied. “Look what happens when you try to walk away with a cabbage without paying. It’s code for wanting to hire him for a hit.” She picked up a cabbage and started to head down the street.

“Miss! Miss! Where do you think you’re going?” the merchant cried out once he noticed. He lunged forward so abruptly that the whole cart toppled over, and he cried out a forlorn “my cabbages!” Amused at the man’s distress, Ozai set his produce on fire and laughed at him.

“Okay, so maybe he was just a cabbage merchant,” Ursa said, tossing the cabbage into the burning heap while the man sobbed. “Let’s get out of here before someone comes after us.”

Silent But Deadly seemed like their best bet. Sneaking him into the palace was easy enough — they used Ursa’s weed-smuggling tunnel to reach the throne room. Azulon sat amidst the flames, surprisingly not yet dead from heat stroke, especially in his old age and with all those heavy robes on.

“Okay, Silent But Deadly, do your thing,” Ozai commanded.

Silent But Deadly inhaled deeply, his third eye glowing. A sudden explosion tore the room into fragments, the deafening boom setting off car alarms and making dogs bark several dimensions over. Azulon’s guts sprayed everywhere. It was metal as fuck.

“What the hell?” Ozai screamed to make himself heard above the ringing in everyone’s ears. “That wasn’t silent!”

“But it was deadly, and that’s what counts. Besides, the silent part of his name refers to how he never talks, dumbass,” Ursa grumbled, wishing that Azulon’s brains hadn’t splattered all over her clothes. It had been a nice dress, and now it was ruined. “Aight, I’ma head out. Smoke weed every day.”

And with that, Ursa vanished. The scheme had been completed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> political compass saga will have its conclusion next chapter


	23. The Political Compass Saga Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four political extremists come together for the final showdown to decide who will lead the Fire Nation.  
> characters: almost everyone

“You can summon dragons from the sky, and yet you still bought a super-yacht,” Katara complained. Her driftwood raft trailed behind Zuko’s personal luxury cruise liner.

“It was only what, two billion dollars? I make that much in a day,” Zuko explained.

“Ugh, think about what you could do with all that money. How many starving peasants you could’ve fed,” she scoffed. “Not that I believe that money should have any place in society.”

“At least I could feed starving peasants if I felt like it, unlike those tyrants you worship.”

“Watch your mouth, buddy! Those were all man-made famines!” Katara had just about given up reasoning with him. She was so very close to sending a massive wave to capsize the yacht, but something on the horizon caught her eye. “Hey, are those Water Tribe ships? What are they doing all the way out here?” she wondered.

Zuko peered over the edge of the balcony. Truly, Zuko and Katara were like an oceanic Romeo and Juliet, but if Romeo had been a communist dictator, Juliet had been an ancap, and they hated each other’s guts.

“No, that looks more like a fleet of jet skis coming towards us in the shape of the anarchy symbol. Believe me, I get pretty good aerial views from all the way up here.” He rolled some weed into a hundred dollar bill and started smoking it, and Katara suppressed a sigh.

Katara looked in the other direction — indeed, there was also a group of jet skis coming towards them, being ridden by a group of angry women with colorful hair. Azula’s anarcho-communists. But she was out on the sea, in her element — she could take out this threat to her regime.

“Wait, wait, don’t attack them, Katara,” Zuko warned her. “The ocean is publicly owned. They’re not violating the non-aggression principle unless they try to get on the yacht.”

“I’ve had it with you and your precious non-aggression principle! Augh!” Katara sent a wave slicing through the jet skis, but the fleet split in two and maneuvered around her attack. She spun to the right to assess the Water Tribe fleet, surprised to see Sokka leading the charge and wearing a funny little cap that made him look like a police officer. (Self-consciously, she straightened out her ushanka hat.)

Creating ice walls on the surface of the ocean did nothing to stop the approaching forces. The anarchists burst through the barrier with the fiery rage of a thousand angry sjws (and the fiery rage of regular fire, seeing as their leader was a firebender); the Water Tribe fleet simply turned into u-boats and reemerged on the other side of the wall. 

Realizing how outnumbered she was — again — Katara formed an ice path up the side of the boat and landed on the balcony with Zuko. “Go, go, let’s get out of here!” she yelled. Zuko dropped his half-smoked joint as she crashed into him. “Let them destroy each other! We can just create an anarcho-capitalist society surrounded by a totalitarian government, which every few years, guillotines the richest one percent and redistributes their wealth equally among the people! Sound like a good compromise?”

“S-sure!” Zuko stammered, but before they could rush inside, a large furry animal with no obvious way to fly landed on the uppermost deck of the yacht.

“STOP FIGHTING!” Aang’s plea echoed across the sea, and the anarchists and fascists halted at the mighty prepubescent voice of the avatar. “None of these are the right way! I’m here to bring balance! We need to create a society where everyone has rights—” He caught Sokka’s murderous gaze. “—But not too many rights. And one where everyone is equal—” Sokka raised his boomerang, which had been modified to specifically seek out minorities. “But not too equal,” Aang hurriedly added. “We have to create a status quo, and work to incorporate everyone into that society. Everyone can be crushed beneath the boot of… whatever economic system and societal norms we choose… no matter their race, or gender, or—”

“Fucking liberal,” Sokka muttered. He yeeted an entire oven at Aang.

“Fucking liberal,” Katara said, hurling a hammer and then a sickle.

“Fucking liberal,” Zuko echoed. He lit a fat wad of cash on fire and threw it.

“Fucking liberal,” Azula cursed, brandishing a two foot steel dildo as a weapon even though they could literally shoot lightning out of their hands. “Get him!”

“Enough!” cried a wise voice. An elderly man climbed down from aboard Appa’s back. “Violence will not solve anything. What we must do is sit down and split up the Fire Nation into four different zones, and you can each rule over one. That’s the simplest way to do it,” Iroh advised them. Toph followed him down, her bare feet thudding onto the deck.

“Oh shit, Uncle, that’s a good idea,” Zuko remarked. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re stupid enough to believe that hard work makes you rich,” Katara grumbled. It had only been a week, and her empire was already being dissolved! But it was the destiny of the communists to create one worldwide, stateless society! (Never mind that she’d never intended to relinquish any of her power to get towards the “stateless” part of that goal.)

“Oh, I don’t believe that, it’s just what I tell my slaves — er, I mean workers — to keep them in line,” Zuko laughed. He pulled a champagne bottle out of his ass. “Cheers to a new era?”

Katara narrowed her eyes and slapped the drink out of his hand. “I only drink vodka. Pussy.”

“Toph, you may do the honors,” Iroh instructed. 

Toph raised a slab of earth from the ocean floor bearing a perfect map of her proposed borders even though she had no idea what the fuck anything looked like. “Gather ‘round, sluts,” she said. “What do you think?”

Indeed, the four leaders tentatively gathered ‘round, climbing down from their vessels to closer inspect the map. “I don’t know about this solution. What about all the people who are forced to move out of their ancestral homelands because they want to live in the only area that’s not filled with degenerates?” Sokka asked.

“You’re in no position to argue, young chieftain. You’re the only one here who doesn’t have any real claim to power,” Iroh silenced him with his unearthly wisdom. 

“You’d just send all the firebenders to concentration camps anyway,” Azula hissed.

“It’s not any worse than gulags!” he growled. “And after what you did to us—”

“Hey, calm down now, I thought we decided that harming noncombatants, even if they’re Fire Nation, was a bad idea in, like, season one,” Aang said.

“Shut up, liberal,” Katara barked.

“I see a lot of potential for border conflict,” Zuko remarked, examining the map. (At this, Toph made an obligatory blind joke about not being able to see anything.) “Maybe we should sign a non-aggression pact of some kind once we’ve decided on the territories,” he suggested.

They all turned to look at Sokka.

“What, you think I’d just invade another country totally unprovoked?” he laughed nervously. “Especially after signing a non-aggression pact? Why don’t we talk about border control instead?”

“I say we give the fascist state back to my father, not this filthy colonizer,” Azula said. “That will at least give those brainwashed old regime supporters a place to live so the rest of us won’t have to deal with them.” They took a fat bong rip and passed it to Zuko, who passed it to Ursa, who may or may not have been a shared hallucination. “And if he tries to aggress again, we can simply team up on him.” The wild pack of lesbians revved their engines, thirsty for fascist blood.

“Opposing diversity isn’t very anarcho-communist of you,” Sokka pointed out.

“SILENCE, NAZI.” Azula shot lasers from their eyes, and the standoff devolved into chaos. Lesbians on jet skis flung molotovs and set fire to the Water Tribe boats, fascists swarmed aboard the super-yacht, Katara furiously sent anyone who approached her down a whirlpool, and Zuko retreated to the gun room of his yacht.

Aang swung by and grabbed Toph from the map in the middle of the ocean. “Oh well,” she commented, shrugging and putting her feet up in Appa’s saddle. “It was worth a try. It’ll be interesting to find out who wins. My money’s on Katara.”

Iroh t-posed in the middle of the battlefield, levitating menacingly. Time slowed around him. He really hated to invoke his god-powers, but things were getting ridiculous. “Why can’t I just run my fuckin’ tea shop in peace?” he sighed quietly, then with a roar, he announced, “I DECLARE THE FIRE NATION TO BE A CAPITALIST-COMMUNIST ANARCHO-FASCIST STATE. AND I WILL BE LEADER.”

The fighting stopped. “Dude, all right, sounds good to me.” Zuko tossed aside the fifteen guns he’d brought out of his gun room.

“I mean… I guess that could work…” Sokka agreed tentatively.

“Yes, yes, but those words mean nothing all slammed together… or do they? What is the philosophy behind ‘capitalist-communist anarcho-fascism?’” Azula put forth.

“Doesn’t that just cancel out to… centrism?” Katara wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“I haven’t figured it out yet, but you’ll all be on my cabinet,” Iroh said. “Now, why don’t we all go back to the palace to work things out and watch some anime?”

“Oh, sweet,” Sokka said, jumping with glee.

“Fuck yeah,” Katara agreed.

“Awesome,” Zuko said.

“Great,” Azula echoed.

“See?” Iroh smiled. “We’ve already found common ground. Getting along might be easier than you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that’s all for the political compass saga. Might do more with the stoner ursa/steve the palace guard/political compass timeline in the future but I think that’s the end of this particular story thread. Remember, I take requests ;)


	24. Waxy Meatball Frozen Zipper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Azula finally hunt down their mother’s physical form and discover the source of her power.  
> characters: Zuko, Azula, Ursa, June

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as requested by SuperStarSykor58

It was a glorious day in the Fire Nation. Under Iroh’s new administration, weed had been legalized. I mean, seriously. Those people come with built-in lighters. The Fire Nation is the most obvious place for legal weed.

“You’ve gotta try this new strain, ‘Zula,” Zuko said excitedly, rolling the delightful herb into a joint and hitting it. “It’s called ‘Alaskan Thunderfuck.’ I got it from Mom.”

Azula took the joint. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” they mused. “Now that all this political nonsense is over with, we ought to find her for real. She vanishes whenever we see her, but her physical body must be out there somewhere.”

“I have good news, then,” Zuko announced. “I know just the person who could track her down.”

A few hours later, Zuko and Azula stood outside a bar on the outskirts of the colonies. Men were being hurled out of windows or running screaming through the door. Inside was little better, with fights breaking out every few seconds. In the midst of it all, a woman dressed in all black was drinking tequila straight out of the bottle and breathing in the general direction of any challengers to scare them off.

“Hey, June,” Zuko greeted her. “I’m sorry to bother you again, but my sister and I need you to track down our mother.” He held up a literal sack of money that was marked with a dollar sign. “I’ll be sure to compensate you generously.”

“Oh, Ursa?” June asked with mild boredom, swirling the liquid inside the bottle. “No need to do any tracking. She lives with me. In fact, we’re getting married next week, now that it’s legal and all. You’re both invited to the wedding.”

“Oh, really? That’s fantastic news,” Zuko said. “But could you take us to her now?”

“Just give me a moment.” June finished the rest of her drink and slammed the empty bottle down on the table. With one graceful roundhouse kick, she incapacitated all six of the remaining patrons in the bar. “Okay. I’m ready now.”

June and Ursa lived in a colony town, in a little house by the river. Because she was just so badass, June broke in through a window and ushered Zuko and Azula in behind her instead of entering through the door like a normal, uncool person.

“Mom!” Zuko called out. Ursa looked up from writing her grimoire.

“Kids!” She greeted them joyously, wrapping them in a warm embrace. “Welcome home, welcome home. Why don’t you stay for dinner? Oh, that’s too mean. You’re free to stay here as long as you want!”

“Are you real?” Azula asked, feeling Ursa’s face. “You aren’t going to dissolve into a cloud of smoke again?”

“Of course I’m real!” Ursa reassured them, suspiciously opting not to answer the second question. “June and I will cook something — feel free to stay and chat or explore around the house. Just don’t go in the attic. That room’s off limits.”

“Why, what’s in there?” Zuko wondered.

“Oh, nothing. Just some dead fascists,” Ursa laughed, and Zuko and Azula joined in. Without Ozai around anymore, they’d become a family of anarchists, and you know what they say, a family who who anarchs together abandons their patriarch together. “But seriously. Don’t go in that room,” she warned them.

“Sure, Mom. We’re just glad that you aren’t a hallucination,” Azula said.

As soon as Ursa left for the kitchen, Zuko and Azula made knowing eye contact. They had to know what was in the attic — but June dropped down from the rafters before they could even make it all the way upstairs.

“I know you’re looking to find out what’s in the attic,” she said. “Your mother doesn’t want me to tell you this, but it’s her stash. It’s no normal pot, though. It’s a strain she cultivated herself called Waxy Meatball Frozen Zipper. She doesn’t want you two smoking any because it’s extremely rare and hard to grow, not to mention that you have to be a level 57 anarchist to use it to teleport like she does.”

“Use it to teleport?” Azula echoed. “That’s what all this was? So she wasn’t a hallucination all those other times?”

“She was real, all right.” June disappeared back into the rafters. “Ask her for some once you’ve thrown bricks at a few more banks. See you guys at dinner.”

The siblings looked at each other with feverish excitement. Zuko suggested, “Let’s go burn down town hall.”


	25. Ozai Tries Queer Nationalism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unhappy with Iroh’s new capitalist-communist anarcho-fascist regime, Ozai vows to create an opposing gay ethnostate.  
> characters: iroh, ozai, steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has turned into a weird political compass au but i promise i have ideas for chapters outside this timeline

“First of all, what happened to all the guards? Why was I just able to walk in here?”

“We had the showdown a week ago. You missed it,” Iroh explained, leaning back in his throne. “We’re an anarcho-fascist state now, which means that we only enforce the laws half of the time.” He glanced at his watch. “And since you’re still a threat to my leadership, I’ll warn you that you have two minutes until the police force comes back on duty. It would be wise of you to leave now, brother.”

“‘Anarcho-fascism?’” Ozai echoed. “How can you hold an ideology that so blatantly contradicts itself? This new government you’ve imposed upon my country just cancels out to radical centrism!”

“You tell him, honey!” Steve yelled from behind him like some sort of cheerleader/hype man combination.

Iroh tapped his wrist. “If it were one minute later, I could send you to a concentration gulag for life for calling it radical centrism!”

“A ‘concentration gulag?’ What does that even mean?”

“Yeah, what’s a ‘concentration gulag,’ MiStEr FiRe LoRd?” Steve mocked.

“Well, I had to placate both the fascists and the authoritarian communists when we were naming the state-sponsored death camps…” Iroh elucidated.

“This is nonsense!” Ozai spat. “How could things have fallen apart so quickly without me? If I still had my bending, I’d — I’d —“ He descended into a rage, too infuriated to speak. Finally, he sputtered out, “See, this is why I got Dad to renounce your birthright!”

Ozai spun around at the sound of boots approaching from behind. “There come my guards,” Iroh announced. “Listen. Because you are my brother, I will let you escape, but only if you agree to never come back here,” he offered.

“Fine! If you want to ruin this country, and fill it with people and ideas that will surely rot it from the inside out, then so be it! If I can no longer live in a glorious ethnostate in which the citizenry worships me as basically a god, then — then I’ll create my own! Come on, Steve,” Ozai said. He grabbed Steve by the hand and started to lead him out as guards surrounded them. He called over his shoulder, “And there will be no filthy centrist ploy to incorporate homosexuals into the status quo and erase our culture — a culture that must be preserved in much the same way that the culture of the Fire Nation must be! Yes! I will create my own gay ethnostate, and there is nothing you can do about it! If I just operate during the anarchist hours… Dear brother, would you be so kind as to tell me what times you enforce laws?”

“Guards, please escort him from the premises.” Ozai continued to rant and rave off in the distance, and Iroh rubbed his forehead. He just wanted to drink tea for God’s sake.


	26. Snapshots From A Life After an IKEA Agni Kai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of reactions to Zuko's scar.  
> Characters: Zuko, Mai, Ozai, Aang, Ursa, Katara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have one more political compass chapter with nazbol hakoda planned but imma take a break from that timeline unless y’all have requests.
> 
> feat. request from Guest

In the dark of night, Zuko crept off the ship and towards the figure waiting for him on the dock. The moon shone down on his visitor, illuminating one side of her face, and Zuko self-consciously felt his own visage, adjusting the bandages over his eye.

It way Mai, the girl he hadn’t seen since before his banishment, and would not be able to see in anywhere besides secret until he had captured the avatar. His stomach flopped at the thought of her seeing him like this — seeing what he had become — a disgraced prince, branded a traitor. Nonetheless, his need to touch her, hold her soft hands in his, tell her that he still wanted to be with her even though he didn’t deserve her anymore — these needs pushed him onward.

He stepped down onto the wooden dock. “Hey Zuko,” she said quietly.

“Hey,” he echoed nervously. “So, um…” He fidgeted uncomfortably. “I get if you don’t want to go out with me anymore, and if that’s what you wanted to tell me tonight. All the shame I’ve brought to my people, and, and… not to mention… my face…”

Wordlessly, slowly, she reached for his bandages, and he pulled away sharply, but leaned forward again. She had to see him as he was now.

The bandages fell away layer by layer. Then, a surprised, “What the hell, Zuko? This is so sexy?”

His eyes widened. “It’s sexy?”

“If we weren’t twelve years old, I’d be saying some very explicit things to you right now,” Mai explained. “Holy shit. It’s exactly on one side. This is such a badass villain scar.”

“Really? You don’t think it’s ugly?” He felt a lump come up in his throat, and tears welling in his eyes.

“Zuko, you have that ponytail and I still like you.” Mai gave him one of her rare smiles. “This is nothing.” 

——

Ever since coming home to the palace, Zuko’s scar had been acting up. He’d ignored. After all, it hadn’t been that bad, that was, until his third day back.

“I can finally say that I am proud of my son—”

Zuko couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his face, rolling around on the floor.

“What!? I welcome you home, and you disrespect me like this? How dare you!” Ozai roared. “You mock my obviously terrible discipline techniques?”

THE DARK LORD WILL RISE, a voice in his head screamed as he suddenly had visions of the Fire Nations slaughtering innocent civilians, and his father at the head off it all. Zuko almost laughed at such a silly mental image that definitely wasn’t a premonition or anything.

“I’m so sorry, Father. My scar has been acting up ever since I got home, and especially, right now—” he grunted out through the pain.

“Fine, you’re forgiven just this once. Only because you actually did the impossible task I assigned you. Seriously, I never thought you’d be able to find the avatar. In fact, I lost quite a bit of money gambling that you’d never pull it off—”

“Thanks, Dad,” Zuko rasped, scrabbling to his feet and excusing himself from the throne room via the third-story window.

——

“Look, Aang, I just want to talk to you in private,” Zuko said, pulling him aside at the beach. “I’m not ready to tell the rest of the group, but you need to hear this. Do you know how I got my scar?”

“No, Zuko… You never told me,” Aang ventured tentatively, shaking his head.

Zuko launched into his tragic backstory. “…And that’s how, after six days, me and my dad got kicked of IKEA,” he concluded. “We’re banned for life. The whole store burned down.”

“Zuko, I can’t believe your father would do something like that to you!” Aang cried.

“I know, right? It took me so long to realize how fucked up that was.”

“No, as in I literally can’t believe it,” Aang clarified. “That’s insane. Even someone as evil as Ozai couldn’t… You’re just making this up so I’ll decide to kill him!”

Of all the responses Zuko had been expecting, this hadn’t been one. “What? Of course I’m not lying!”

Aang stuck his fingers in his ears and began to loudly yell, “La la la, can’t hear you! You’re just making it up so I’ll kill somebody because I totally have never killed someone in a fight before!” 

“Aang, I know it’s a lot of pressure—” he tried, but he soon gave up. “Fucking bald ass middle school motherfucker.”

— —

“Zuko! It’s really you,” Ursa cried and wrapped her arms around her son, her little boy she hadn’t seen in so many years. “What the fuck happened to your face?”

“Well, you know how Dad is,” Zuko muttered, his hug clumsy and awkward in spite of the joy coursing through him.

“What do you mean?” Ursa gasped, grabbing a spiked mace from her bag. “Do I have to beat a motherfucker?”

“Yes, please,” Zuko replied sheepishly.

——

“Hey handsome, did you ever did tell me how you got that scar?” Katara asked in her wobbly old lady voice from the porch of a Legend of Korra-era retirement home.

Zuko stilled his rocking chair. “You know how it was back in the day. You spill the milk on the way back from milkin’ the cow, and yer father beats you unconscious,” he explained wisely.

“This is the third time today they’ve had this conversation,” the nurse observing them commented, making a note on a clipboard.

“I hate it when the old folks flirt, it makes me sick,” a second one blanched. 

“Tell me about it…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we out here keeping it classy making fun of victims of child abuse and people with dementia


	27. Nazbol Gang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Water Tribe Nazbol Gang attempts to hunt Ozai for sport and take over his new commune.  
> characters: sokka, katara, hakoda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keeping it xtra classy making jokes about hate crimes AND coronavirus on this fine day, wtf even is this chapter, i promise it’ll get less weird after this
> 
> As suggested by Loken 16, feat. tiny request from Guest

“I say we kill the rich!” Katara argued.

“No, we kill anyone who doesn’t look like us!” Sokka retorted.

“Kids, kids…” Hakoda strode across the deck of the ship and put an arm around each of their shoulders. “You’re both right! I know we’ve been apart for a long time, so I was thinking that we should do something together as a family. I’ve gotten intel that former Fire Lord Ozai is hiding out in a queer nationalist commune near the southern tip of the Fire Nation archipelago. Since he’s both a royal and he looks different from us, what if we hunted him for sport?”

It was hard work parenting both a communist and a fascist, but Hakoda liked to think that he pulled it off. “Nazbol Gang, Nazbol Gang,” he chanted to himself.

“You’re really taking me to kill a gay firebender? You’re the best, Dad!” Sokka cried excitedly. Never mind that he’d had a Real Fascist Bonding Moment with Ozai only a week earlier.

“That’s my boy.” Hakoda thumped him on the back. “There aren’t that many firebenders we can get away with killing now that the war’s over, so we’d better take this chance!” He turned to Katara. “My little man gets to commit a hate crime, and after we’re done, my baby girl gets her own commune. It’s a win-win!”

“Thanks, Dad. It’ll be like I was never overthrown!” Katara wept, hugging her wonderful Nationalist Bolshevik father.

“‘Queer nationalism…’ Actually, I kind of like that…” Sokka mused. “If it keeps gay people away from me…”

Hakoda butted into his reverie. “But wouldn’t you rather kill firebenders?”

“Yes! You’re damn right!” Sokka gleefully bust out some sick dance moves.

“No dancing allowed in the ultimate authoritarian state!” Hakoda barked.

——

The commune was fenced off, which didn’t make any sense because the island’s sheer cliffs dropped off sharply into the sea. Nonetheless, Katara yeeted her father and brother inside with a water trebuchet, then herself. Compared to everyone else, firebenders really had the most useless powers, Sokka thought. Those fuckers all had coronavirus anyways. Just another reason for Water Tribe supremacy.

Inside the fence, various bars and bathhouses had popped up overnight. The Nazbol Gang had to admit that so far, the compound looked fairly respectable. Weed was for morally degraded losers who contributed nothing to society, but alcohol was okay for some reason.

“Let’s split up,” Hakoda suggested. “I’ll go inside that gay bathhouse. Katara, clear out ‘Leather Daddy’s Liquor Bar.’ Sokka, you check that YMCA over there. Make sure to avert your eyes; if you see any homosexual acts, it’ll turn you gay, and none of us want that, okay? Hm, maybe I should’ve thought this through better…”

“Dad, if you’re afraid that seeing gay people will turn you gay, then you were already gay to begin with.” Katara rolled her eyes. “Well, I’ll catch you later. I have a BDSM club to turn into a brutal communist regime.” She Naruto-ran towards the Carly Rae Jepson song playing in the distance.

Hakoda ignored her ominous omen and placed a hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “Be brave, son. Take no prisoners.”

Sokka nodded solemnly. “Of course, Dad. It’s not like I allow myself to show fear, or any emotion besides anger, anyway, because I’m afraid of being labeled as feminine.”

Hakoda removed his hand. “Ugh, you’re right. It’s pretty effeminate of me to even show affection towards you right now. Well, don’t die!” he laughed nervously, and dashed off.

The bathhouse greeted the Nazbol King with a burst of warm steam that immediately clouded his vision. Through the haze, he could make out the pale buttocks of the naked men all around him, hear their low chatter, the sloshing the water, disco music echoing in the long hall, the slapping and clapping of cheeks. 

He began to sweat, telling himself that it was because of the heat, and not because of finely shaped forms of the various gentlemen inside. In all his years of fighting Fire Nation men, how had he never realized… that they could really get it? Had it been because of their absurd medieval armor that covered even their faces, obscuring his view of their gorgeous bodies? Was the steam getting to his head, and that was why he couldn’t think straight?

TWO DUDES KISSING. GUYS HOLDING HANDS. THAT ONE TIME AT BIBLE CAMP. THE SHOWER IN THE BOY’S LOCKER ROOM ON THE LAST DAY OF FOOTBALL PRACTICE, his brain gremlins taunted him.

“Hey, how did you get in here?” someone asked, and an already uncomfortably jittery Hakoda panicked.

“Stay back! I have a copy of the Communist Manifesto!” he warned, brandishing the red paperback.

“Hah! That book holds no power here,” came a voice from the end of the hall. The steam cleared to reveal Ozai and Steve sharing a loveseat-style throne and wearing matching embroidered bathrobes. 

“Dad!” Sokka cried, and Hakoda whipped around in time for his son to lasso him with a YMCA hula hoop and evacuate him from the premises.

“Where’s Katara?” Hakoda shouted as they burst free of the steamy, sweaty bathhouse. A horde of angry, naked firebenders chased them, screaming racial slurs.

“Still in the bar. She can handle herself. Let’s just get out of here!”

The remaining two-thirds of the Nazbol Gang scaled the fence and plummeted into the ocean below. Gasping and coughing up water, they swam back to their boat. “Do you think Leather Daddy’s Liquor Bar will turn her gay?” Hakoda wondered.

“Nah,” Sokka replied. He didn’t bother drying himself off because water was the supreme element. “If she tries to ally with her fellow lefty Azula and visits the lesbian commune, then we might have a problem.”

“Good thing I raised her with such strong traditional family values! She’ll never betray us… right?”


	28. A Whole New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> characters: sokka, yue

“Oh my! Are you sure this safe?” Yue wondered, wide-eyed. Appa snorted and pawed the ground, regarding them inquisitively.

“Well, it got me and my friends all the way across the world to you, so I’d say it is! How about it, Princess?” Sokka extended his hand, and Yue took it daintily, climbing aboard the flying bison. They settled down in the large saddle, and with a “yeet yeet,” they were off.

Romantic music began to play in the background as they gazed across the open, glimmering sea. Behind them, the icy north pole grew smaller and smaller, and the wind whipped in their hair. Yue’s grip on his hand was so tight as she pressed into him nervously.

“You really travel like this every day? It’s so… it’s so… exciting!” Yue gasped. “I would love to come with you, but I… I have a duty to my people.”

“Now’s not a time for worries, Princess Yue. Besides, maybe I can change your mind.” He began to sing, and the music swelled up. “I can show the world/shining, shimmering, splendid/Tell me, Princess, now when did/You last let your heart decide?/I can— oh shit.”

Sokka turned his head a little bit to the right, where ash was falling from the sky and Fire Nation ships were hulking on the horizon. “Gah! Goddamn Fire Nation, ruining my Disney Prince moment!” he cried. “Forget it, we need to get back and warn everyone! After all, I’m sure there will be another time.”


	29. An IKEA Agni Kai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> characters: ozai, zuko, and a surprise

“Wh… Why are we in an IKEA? Where’s that general who wanted to fight me?” Zuko stammered. A few shoppers holding blue bags wandered past them and into the labyrinth of furniture.

“Oh, Zuko,” Ozai said. “It’s so hard being fire lord, and sometimes, you need a break. What better vacation could there be than hunting your own son for sport inside an IKEA?”

“Excuse me, what? Hunt me for sport?” Zuko echoed, recoiling in horror.

Ozai aggressively grabbed Zuko by the shoulder so he wouldn’t try to run just yet. “I would’ve liked to go with the traditional forest setting, but with industrialization and all, there aren’t many of those left. So I thought — why not do it in my favorite furniture store? There are plenty of places to hide. Water, bathrooms, beds, Swedish meatballs for sustenance. I don’t want to make it too easy on myself. That would take all the fun out of it!”

“Father… I mean no disrespect, but what the fuck.”

“I’ll give you twenty minutes to hide, and then I’m coming after you,” Ozai announced jovially. “And you know what? I’m feeling generous. If you can survive a week, I’ll let you go. But you’d better get running, boy!”

DAY ONE

Zuko took off through the IKEA. He made seventeen turns through the maze, figuring that by now, he was all the way in the bowels of the store and there wasn’t much further he could go. How wrong he was. He climbed into a dresser for the night and hoped his father wouldn’t think to look inside.

DAY TWO

Zuko clambered out of the drawer. He was achy and sweaty from the night inside the cramped space, not to mention he hadn’t slept well. There was still no sign of Ozai, so he decided to use one of the many showers, only to find that it was occupied. 

So he wasn’t alone back here. He located another bathroom area and used the facilities.

“Hingen hurgen durgen!” A voice drifted over from the other side of a wall, and he could smell meat cooking.

“A Swedish meatball vendor!” he gasped, and desperately tried to follow the sound and odor through the maze, but succeeded only in getting more lost. He felt safe enough to spend the night in a real bed, but fell asleep with his stomach growling.

DAY THREE

“Hey kid, are you lost too?”

The lights were off, and the store was not yet open. This was the only way Zuko had been able to count the days in the windowless maze. The man who’d awoken him was holding a torch, and behind him was a ragtag gang, some using their firebending for light. One particularly smart woman had simply turned on one of the IKEA lamps.

“Yeah. Who are you guys?” Zuko asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed.

“Ah. We’ve all been trapped here for weeks. Some of us, months.”

“Or years,” a grizzled, one-eyed old man spoke up from the back. “You look like you could use a meal, kid. Follow us.”

A few turns and a hidden door later, they’d arrived at the cart of the Swedish meatball vendor. Zuko dug in eagerly, and took some food for the road.

“You’re welcome to stay with us,” the old man offered as Zuko licked his fingers.

“My father took me here so he could hunt me for sport,” Zuko confessed. “Will you protect me if he shows up?”

“Hah! Sorry, but you’re on your own, then! We want to live to see the sunlight again, laddie!” 

“All right. Well, thanks for the food, at least.”

DAY FOUR

It was midmorning, and as one does, Zuko was walking through the maze when he ran straight into Ozai. 

“Get over here you little shit!” Ozai blasted fire at him, and Zuko fled haphazardly, nearly tripping over the skeleton of someone who’d died in the labyrinth and jumping over a Scandinavian-style lacquered mahogany table. Several lamps shattered. A group filming a sitcom using the furniture stopped to watch the carnage.

Zuko dove through the hidden trapdoor that the roving gang had shown him yesterday, and Ozai halted, confused as to where his son had disappeared off to. Zuko heard him pacing around aboveground before he finally left.

DAY FIVE

Zuko’s hunger drove him to venture out from the bunker. He had to find the Swedish meatball vendor again, but when he opened the trapdoor, he was in a totally unfamiliar area. Here, the furniture was only partially assembled, and the skeletons were bountiful. Had he accidentally entered the warehouse area?

Then he saw her. “Mom?” he breathed in disbelief. Was he going insane, or was this really where she had been all these years?

But she saw him too. “Zuko?” She feebly turned her head towards him. She was weak, starving, and he rushed over to her side.

“Here.” He offered her the last of his Swedish meatballs. “Please. Eat,” he begged.

She pushed his hand away. “No. All I’ve eaten for the last three years has been Swedish meatballs. And on rare occasions, Swedish fish…” Her eyes started to glaze over.

“No! Mom! I need you! Dad’s trying to kill me! Please! I just found you…”

“Listen… If you keep your right hand on the wall and just walk… Eventually, you will get out. That is my advice to you. Now go… Be free, my son.”

Ursa shut her eyes one last time, and she was gone.

DAY SIX

Zuko emerged from the trapdoor. He had to escape — he had to do it for his mother. It might take him a few more days, but he knew he would make it to the entrance if he followed her advice, and hopefully without running into his father again. Which was looking like it would be pretty easy, considering—

Ah, shit.

A rug unrolled into his path, and Ozai jumped out from the middle. “Prepare to die!” he declared. Fire engulfed the room, and Zuko’s skin sizzled. Certain that this was the end, he clutched his burnt face, but a mighty “HINGA BERGA DURGA” filled the smoky air. The Swedish meatball vendor leapt out from behind a nightstand and stabbed Ozai in the chest.

“You and your son are banned from IKEA for life!” the vendor screamed through a heavy accent. “You owe one hundred thousand Swedish kronor in property damage! Dur hinga dinga durgen!”

He clapped, and a portal appeared, through which he shoved Ozai and Zuko.

The two royals lay panting in the IKEA parking lot, thoroughly befuddled. “Okay, Zuko. I know it’s only been six days, but you win this round,” Ozai admitted. He, too, grabbed his wound, and he sputtered out, “But you’re banished! How dare you and that meatball vendor humiliate me like this!”

“Acceptable,” Zuko managed to squeak out through his horrible agony.

And thus, IKEA banned hunting in its stores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those of you interested, a family portrait from the political compass timeline:
> 
> https://wenchicus-thoticus.tumblr.com/post/613092595376275456/zuko-gets-his-xbox-taken-away-political-compass


	30. Fistfight The President

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang has a sleep-deprived revelation.  
> characters: aang, toph

“Only four days until I have to fight the fire lord,” Aang muttered to himself, punching a tree repeatedly without engaging his bending in any way, because this was clearly the supreme training method. The bags under his eyes could hold a lifetime’s supply of eggs. “Wait a second.”

He started kicking a bush instead. “Why do I even have to fight this guy?” he wondered. “This makes no sense. Since when do you have to fistfight the president to win a war? His successors are as bad as he is anyhow, and they’ll still have his whole army at their disposal. He should just stay out of the fighting entirely if he knows what’s good for him.”

Aang went back to punching the tree. An acorn fell on his head, and he picked it up and began to stroke it lovingly as if it were a baby bird. “That would solve so many problems. So many lives would be saved. Can’t all wars be resolved by a sparring match between world leaders?”

“AANG, GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP,” Toph yelled at him from her earthen tent. “YOU’RE KEEPING ME AWAKE.”

“She’s right,” Aang sighed. He set down the acorn. “What am I saying? I do need some rest. And when I wake up, I’ll realize that it does make more sense to beat up the king.”


	31. The Quarantine Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cont'd from Nazbol gang chapter.  
> characters: Katara, Zuko, cabbage merchant, foaming mouth guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as requested by gh0stwriter

A dragon descended through the roof of Leather Daddy’s Liquor Bar. It landed beside Katara, and she sighed, already knowing who had sent it. The dragon held up its claw and passed her a note.

“You have cordially been invited to Zuko’s nuclear bunker for the quarantine,” she read aloud. Well, now that her new communist dictatorship inside the bar had been destroyed, she figured that she might as well. It would be so fun to ride tanks through the streets and intimidate the populace into staying inside, but her failures were really getting her down. And if there was anywhere to wait out a pandemic, it was in Zuko’s well-stocked post-apocalyptic shelter. 

Katara climbed aboard the dragon and took off through the skies.

—

“Sir, we’re gonna have to ask you to close up your business due to the pandemic,” the health inspector said.

“But this is my livelihood,” the cabbage merchant protested. “How will I make money?”

“Well, you could move to the Fire Nation. I hear they’re communist half of the time now,” the health inspector suggested. “If you don’t want to do that, then you need to change your health practices. Last time I was here, I saw you rubbing your face on your produce, but I didn’t fail you because I felt bad about your cart getting run over by those kids. But you have to stop doing that.”

“I’ll… think about it,” the cabbage merchant said.

“No! You can’t ‘think about it!’ And wash your damn hands!”

—

The dragon dropped Katara off only a few islands over from Ozai’s queer nationalist compound. “Of course he has his own private island,” she muttered to herself. “I should’ve known.”

Zuko emerged from his unground bunker wearing a trench coat and a plague doctor mask. “So glad to see you could make it!” he said. “Come in, let me show you around.”

They retreated into the lair, passing by several rooms of freeze-dried food, a closet full of guns, what looked suspiciously like a nuke, and finally the true payload — the toilet paper warehouse.

“I’ve been selling these online,” he explained gleefully. “I bought up every store in the Fire Nation, and I’m selling rolls for a hundred coins each. I’m gonna be rich!”

“You’re already rich!”

“Richer!”

Katara peered around the corner and into the warehouse. “Zuko! Why are there people working in there? You’re supposed to send them home!”

“It doesn’t matter if they get sick if we’ll be safe. I haven’t shown you the seven lower levels yet! We won’t even have to look at those filthy poor people!”

“You disgust me.” Katara pinned him up against the wall. There was only one thing that would keep her sane if she had to spend the next few weeks with Zuko. “Let’s make out, you sack of shit.”

—

“Oh my God, he’s infected.”

“No, that’s just Foamy Bill,” the villager explained to the woman who’d moved to Kyoshi Island last month. “He’s just like that. It happens whenever he gets excited.”

“Well, he should still see a doctor about that anyway, because that is not normal.”

—

Seventeen rounds of vigorous hate sex later, Zuko and Katara lay exhausted on the massive triple-king size bed overlooking the aquarium/bowling alley combo room.

“Okay, I have to admit that you’re spending the apocalypse in style, even though it goes against basic human decency,” Katara said.

“And I have to admit that your form of government is probably the best for controlling the pandemic, even though it sucks at everything else,” Zuko replied.

A pause.

“Please never tell anyone that I am enjoying this disgustingly decadent bourgeoisie lifestyle.” Before he could say anything, she asked, “Are you up for round eighteen?”

Zuko didn’t even complain upon this infringement upon his free speech. “Hell yes. Hold on, let me get my InfoWars boner pills.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authright/libleft interacting: boring, old, I see this every day  
> authleft/libright interacting: new, exciting, a little bit sexy


	32. Online Classes (In Which Blind Jokes Are Made)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the pandemic, Toph has to teach her metalbending class online.  
> characters: Toph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by Guest

“Can you fuckwits all hear me?” Toph asked her metalbending class.

She received a chorus of “yeah”s and one ding signifying that some absolute buffoon had opted to type their response. 

“Okay, you know I can’t see the chat. Use your damn microphone!”

“Sorry, Sifu Toph,” came the sad reply. 

“All right. As you know, now that we’re all quarantined, there’s not much feedback I can give you. So we’re gonna have to find a different way to gauge your progress,” she explained.

A loud crashing sound from the computer. “Oh my God! I just metalbended an entire wall down!” a student bragged. “Can the chat back me up? You all saw that, right? It totally happened.”

“Don’t think you can fool me, bonehead,” Toph groaned. “I don’t have to be standing right in front of you to tell that you’re lying! Let me demonstrate how to really metalbend an entire wall down!”

“You’re not on camera!” “You’re not on screen!” “We can’t see you!” came flood of protests. Their voices all blurred together and distorted, then the audio cut out entirely.

“Sokka!” she yelled. “The internet stopped working! Get over here and fix it!” When nothing happened, she muttered to herself, “Fuck. Is he out trying to convince people that the pandemic is a hoax perpetuated by communists again? Or is it the Foggy Swamp Tribe Occupied Government that he thinks is behind it? Sokka! I know you spend all day on 4chan! Help me with this shit-eating computer!” She punched the desk in frustration.

The connection phased back in. “Hello? Can you hear us?” a student asked.

“You know what, forget it. Classes are canceled until this shit blows over. Keep practicing on your own,” Toph said. She fumbled around for the power button, and once the computer was off, she was greeted by sweet, beautiful silence. Maybe things were better this way.


	33. Thas Depression Babey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko muses about his return home.  
> Characters: Zuko, Iroh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been working on another fic, hence the slower updates. It’s gonna be a pretty serious one oh my god what am I turning into.

“I have everything I’ve ever wanted, but it’s not at all how I thought it would be!”

Several dimensions over, countless women swooned over their TV and computer screens as Zuko delivered this hauntingly angsty line.

Iroh still refused to look at him, facing the prison wall. He spoke quietly, so softly that Zuko thought he might have imagined it. “What did you expect?”

“What did I expect?” Zuko echoed dramatically. “I… I don’t know what I expected. I’m back with my girlfriend, but she gets off more on bossing around servants than she does when we make out… I thought Azula would be constantly antagonizing me, but she’s been weirdly nice, and that’s really been setting me on edge. Like, I can’t sleep at night because I’m afraid she’s plotting something.”

“Hm,” Iroh interjected understandingly. Somehow, he had acquired a cup of hot tea from within the wall of the prison. Such were his superhuman powers.

Zuko continued, “I thought Dad would take me go-carting, or fishing, or at least play catch with me, but all he does is talk to me about slaughtering Earth Kingdom civilians and how he’d like to feel power run through his veins as he bathes in the blood of innocents… I don’t know. I’ve lost interest in the luxuries of being a prince that kept me happy before I was banished. My relationships — no, my life — feels fake, and empty.”

Iroh rose his cup in a toast. “Thas depression babey.”


	34. I Feel A Little Funny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> takes place during "bitter work."  
> characters: Zuko, Iroh

“I made you some tea, Uncle,” Zuko said. Iroh cradled his bandaged arm, still injured from their run-in with Azula the day prior.

“Thank you, Zuko.” Iroh gratefully took a cup from the tray. If there was anything that could heal him, it was tea. (Well, besides professional medical treatment, that was. Iroh was too wise to be a follower of alternative medicine.)

“I tasted it already. It’s just like how you make it, but I feel a little funny.” Zuko rubbed his head, looking completely out of it.

Iroh noted his red eyes and relatively calm demeanor. For Zuko, “calm” was any level of not actively losing his shit. 

He glanced into the cup and sniffed the liquid within. 

“Nephew, this is marijuana."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Inspired by a text post on tumblr. With the amount of weed in this fic y’all really thought I was gonna go all of 4/20 month without bringing it up?


	35. Thot Chakra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> characters: Guru Pathik, Aang

“One more chakra, and you’ll be able to enter the avatar state at will,” Guru Pathik said. He and Aang sat at the highest point in the temple, meditating. “The thought chakra deals with pure cosmic energy, and is blocked by earthly attachments.”

Visions of Katara flashed in Aang’s head. No… he couldn’t let her go! The idea alone was so abhorrent to him that he refused to even consider it. “But Katara!” he cried out. “I thought earthly attachment was okay just three chakras ago! The air chakra deals with love—”

“Hold up a second, bitchboy. This girl is the only thing you can think of for earthly attachment? Don’t you have other friends? Weren’t you shook as fuck when those Tusken Raider-lookin’ motherfuckers stole your sky bison the other day?” Guru Pathik wondered. “Oh, it’s that kind of earthly attachment, huh? Thought chakra? More like thot chakra, amirite?”

“I’m twelve years old…” Aang said.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right, son. Besides, it’s the water chakra that deals with pleasure. And they didn’t let me say where that’s located ‘cause this is a kid’s show.”*

“I… I love her the most,” Aang admitted. “I love my other friends too, but… she’s special.”

“Don’t let your buddies know that you’re playing favorites,” he scoffed. “C’mon, little man. Just give it a try. If you don’t open up this bitch now, then you’ll never be able to do it unless you go to a real good chiropractor. Meditate it out, bruh.”

“All right. I guess if I really need to…” Aang shut his eyes and began to meditate, but his mind was bombarded with horrible visions of Katara being kidnapped. (Only one of them was canon. The other 7000 were from contrived Zutara fanfictions about Stockholm Syndrome.)

His eyes flew open. “No! She’s in danger! I have to rescue her!”

Guru Pathik sighed and handed Aang a business card for a local chiropractor, and within seconds, the avatar had fled the scene.

“Well,” he said to himself, all alone again but for the woodland creatures flocking toward him as if he were a Disney Princess, “can’t say I didn’t try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *From Avatar Wiki: “In Hinduism, the second chakra is located in or near the sexual and reproductive organs, as it is related to pleasure. Due to this fact, it is the one chakra whose location is not stated in the show's dialogue.”


	36. Dishonored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For one chapter, let’s get back to the basics of what this fic is all about: Zuko and his Xbox. Cont’d from chapter 4.  
> Characters: Ozai, Zuko

At last, Zuko had captured the avatar and restored his Xbox. Only it wasn’t his old Xbox, it was a new console, for during his absence, Azula had set it on fire, along with all his games.

As such, Ozai had helped him choose new games. It was not the delightful bonding time he had imagined when his son had finally returned home. It was like Zuko hadn’t missed him at all — didn’t even care about him. He couldn’t take away Zuko’s Xbox again without the prince blowing up at him and exposing the shaky foundation of their post-banishment relationship, but he still had to be punished for his selfishness.

He had tried talking to his son — having a real man to man conversation about their problems — but it hadn’t worked. So Ozai had to punish his son in the only way a cool dad such as himself knew how: with cool dad jokes.

The palace doorbell rang. The FNPS dropped off a box at the front door, and Zuko rushed over to pick up his new games, only to find that Ozai had gotten there first. He opened the package slowly while maintaining direct eye contact with Zuko.

“What could be in here?” he asked, pulling the singular game from the deceptively large box. “If you don’t shape up your act and start acting like the future leader of the Fire Nation rather than a spoiled child, you will be… Dishonored.”

He revealed the case. Dishonored was the name of the game.

“This is all you’re getting until you behave,” he said. “You have brought dishonor to this family.”

“Sweet, I’ve always wanted this game,” Zuko said, reaching for the case.

“No! Don’t you get it?” Ozai roared. “I’m trying to be symbolic!”

“Sounds like a dad joke to me. Besides, what’s the point of having honor? It’s not like it’s some tangible reward. It’s just a construct meant to promote obedience and social cohesion. It’s not even real.”

“Okay, forget it.” Ozai snatched it back. The comment had been surprisingly deep for someone such as Zuko, but he was too angry to remark on it. “This isn’t working. You’re banished!”

Zuko gasped, and made sad puppy eyes at him.

“To your room. You’re banished to your room,” he corrected himself. “Go think about where your life is headed, young man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember fellas i take requests


	37. Live Laugh Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozai’s thirteenth birthday is a disappointing one.  
> Characters: Ozai, Iroh

Ozai popped a princely pimple and put the pus on his pants, a garment that cost more money than most people would see in their lifetimes. His parents had gotten him a new notebook for his thirteenth birthday, which was pretty lame. He’d wanted a sword, or a slave from the Earth Kingdom, or his father to denounce Iroh’s birthright to the throne, or something cool like that. 

But no. He’d gotten a diary that said “live laugh love” on it.

He figured that since he had it, he might as well use it. He was bored and sad anyway because no one had showed up to his party. Absentmindedly, he began to doodle, but as the lines took shape into a person, he looked again at the inscription on book’s cover. Maybe this was the opposite of the journal from Death Note. Maybe anything he drew in here would come to life… and seek vengeance for the wretched hand that fate had dealt him.

He added some armor and a crown onto the little man he’d drawn, and not knowing what other embellishments to include, he gave him wings, too, and made a little mountaintop for him to stand on. Then he scribbled some factoids about the character in the margins. He would be a firebender. That was obvious. He could fly. Duh. And he was impervious to all attacks. He was more powerful than the avatar. And, why the hell not, he was the emperor of the world.

Ozai tapped his pencil against the page. Now he just needed a name for his character, who was definitely not an overpowered, idealized version of himself.

Phoenix King, he wrote on the top of the page. Feeling proud, he thought he might post it to DeviantArt later.

“Is that anime?”

Ozai whipped around, slamming the notebook shut. “What are you doing here, Iroh!?” He tried to sound scary, but his voice cracked.

Iroh sat down even though no one had invited him in. “I just saw that you’re all alone on your birthday. That really sucks, so I thought I’d hang out with you.” He pointed at the notebook and whispered, “Also, you might want to do a better job hiding that. You can get banished for anime possession.”

“It’s not anime!” he protested. Goddamn Iroh always had to ruin everything by existing. He was like the worst brother ever.

Iroh chuckled warmly and winked. “No need to worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by an old text post from my pal science fiction is real.


	38. Trans Rights!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozai decides to give himself a haircut in quarantine, and it has some unintended side effects.  
> characters: ozai, steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m never done making fun of ozai’s bad facial hair. cont’d from the political compass/quarantine chapters.

The queer nationalist compound was under lockdown. Of course, usually no one entered or exited, but some dirty water savages had breached the fence, and everyone was self-isolating in case they had brought the virus with them. It was day six, but it felt like day six hundred and sixty six. Ozai and Steve had done just about every activity they could think of from the basement of the YMCA: knitting each other scarves, blaming the Water Tribe for the pandemic, engaging in competitive hand-holding contests, working on their evil laughs, and of course, The Big Spicy.

But it got boring after a while. “Do you think I should do something different with my hair?” Ozai wondered, not knowing that this broke an unspoken law of Avatar fanfiction. “Or my beard?”

“No, I love you just as you are,” Steve said wholesomely.

“Thank you, Steve.” He still felt warmth rush to his gut, as if someone had set his insides on fire (but in a good way), whenever Steve complimented him. “But I’m just… so bored. Perhaps there is a style better suited to me now that I’ve changed careers.”

“Sure. If that’s what you want.” Steve got a pair of scissors, a razor, and shaving cream from the bathroom, and they sat in front of the mirror, thinking about what to do.

“Let’s start with my beard,” Ozai said. “I’ve had it for years… It will be strange to see myself without it, but I suppose that if there’s any time to try a new look, it’s now.”

Steve reluctantly snipped off his long goatee. The changes were immediate. “T-TR-TRANS RIGHTS,” Ozai burst out uncontrollably. 

“What?” Steve gasped, unable to believe his ears.

“Human rights,” Ozai panted. He doubled over breathlessly. “I’ve committed so many human rights violations. Maybe I should be in one of Iroh’s concentration gulags!”

“No! What are you saying?” Steve grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “This is exactly what happened to Azula when your ex-wife cut her hair! She became a leftist! I should’ve known this was a bad idea!”

“THEIR,” Ozai screamed.

“WHERE?”

“AZULA’S PRONOUNS…” Ozai passed out on the bathroom floor.

“My God, his whole personality was in that beard,” Steve realized. “His whole ideology. The core of who he is…” He panicked, and it dawned on him what he had to do. “I’ve got to keep him drugged until it grows back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fire family's power IS stored in their hair. believe it.


	39. We Get The Point Already

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I make fun not of Katara’s trauma, but the way she shoehorns it into conversations.  
> characters: Katara, Sokka, Zuko, Toph

After discovering the carnage at the Southern Air Temple, Aang had flown into a rage that had triggered his avatar state, and Katara tried to talk him down the only way she knew how: with sympathy.

“I understand, Aang. The Fire Nation took someone I loved, too. They raided our village when I was just a girl, and they killed my mother.”

—

Sometime later, in the crystal caverns beneath Ba Sing Se, Katara found herself stuck with Prince Zuko. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” he said all dark-and-brooding-ly, sexily flipping his emo hair. Then he ruined it by whining, “I just want my mommy back.”

“What happened to her?” Katara asked, touched by his honesty.

“She left to save me.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, my mother sacrificed herself to save me, too. Fire Nation soldiers attacked our village and killed her right in front of me when I was only eight.”

“Are you trying to outdo my sob story?” Zuko bitched, pointing at his scar. “Because you won’t win.”

—

“No!” Sokka howled. While snacking aboard Appa, he had accidentally dropped a piece of meat into the distant ocean below. “My meat!”

“It’s okay, Sokka. I’ve also lost something I love,” Katara said. “When I was just a girl, Fire Nation soldiers killed my mother.”

Sokka gave her a funny look. “We have the same mother,” he said. “I know all this stuff. I was there.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I feel like you didn’t love her as much as I did because you don’t talk about her constantly!”

“Where were you when we needed to bust Dad out of prison? I could’ve used your help!”

“Guys, shut up!” Toph yelled. “We get the point already, Katara. Your mom’s dead. Go to therapy or something, don’t ruin my vibe over it.”


	40. Peak Liberalism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow! The Fire Nation is so progressive. They let women into their military, after all.  
> characters: ursa, azulon, ozai

Ursa took a hit on her phat blunt. “Hello, father-in-law,” she said.

“Get that degenerate shit out of here,” Azulon grumbled, waving away the smoke, even though his throne was surrounded by fire and he spent all day inhaling carcinogens anyway. Seriously, lung cancer must be a leading cause of death in firebenders. Or maybe they don’t have cancer in the avatar universe. I don’t know.

She blew a cloud of smoke in his face anyway. “So I heard you’ve decided to let women into the military,” she said.

“Why? Are you interested in joining?”

“Pssh. Hell no. What I’m interested in is your empty display of progressivism. Truly insidious of you to lead an imperialist campaign based on the supremacy of the Fire Nation and its ideals, but also call yourself a champion of equality by letting a minority demographic into the oppressive institution of the military.”

“I should’ve had you burned at the stake for treason a long time ago. And for that witchcraft you do. The whole vanishing thing. That’s just not natural!” As Azulon clasped his arthritic hands together (do they have arthritis in the avatar universe?), his joints creaked like an antique rocking chair in use by a skeleton.

Ursa smiled slyly. “But if I was gone, who would grow the poppies to fuel your opioid addiction?”

“It’s true, no one grows them better than you!” he cried, distraught.

“Abolish the military, Azulon. Do it! Equality means nothing while oppressive institutions still stand!” she chanted. Using her magical anarchist weed powers, she teleported behind him. “Destroy the hierarchy! Do it, Azulon!”

Azulon flailed about, believing that he was experiencing some sort of drug-induced hallucination. “All right! I’ll think about it!”

“Sweet,” Ursa said. The chanting ended. “Well, see ya later. Smoke weed every day.”

Meanwhile, Ozai was fretting over the same decision when Ursa teleported over. “I can’t believe Father would let women into the military. This is exactly what the communists want!” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “They’re threatening our way of life! I might have to call someone by gender neutral pronouns!”

“Oh, sweetie,” Ursa sighed, tussling his hair. “You know nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UHMMM this is definitely not a critique of anything in our society idk what you’re talking about. also if you’re wondering what type of anarchist Ursa is, i’d put her as a mutualist, and june as an egoist so they’re in the middle of ancap zuko and ancom azula.


	41. The Dumbest Bitch Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> characters: azula, zuko

“We’re taking the prisoners home!”

Everyone froze. Zuko and Iroh realized that Azula’s promises had been a ruse, and Azula realized that her scheme had failed thanks to her idiot captain.

Acting quickly, Azula seized an award from Zuko’s achievement case. “Here.” She bowed. “This belongs to you now, Captain.”

“Oh, thank you,” he sighed, relieved. He’d thought Azula would burn him to a crisp for his mistake! But then he read it, deflating sadly. “Oh… This is the ‘Dumbest Bitch Alive’ award…”

“Enjoy it while you can.” Azula tossed the medal back to Zuko, then shoved the captain overboard, where he would no longer be the dumbest bitch alive simply by virtue of not being alive.

It was so hard being the smartest bitch on the block.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk this was funnier in my head. If y’all fuck with my writing, I’d appreciate it if you checked out my newest fic, “Breath,” an AU where Aang wakes up from the iceberg 30 years earlier. If it were a chapter of “Zuko Gets His Xbox Taken Away,” it would be called “Ozai’s Ethnostate Adventure” and it would be funny instead of scary and depressing. Thanks!


	42. When You Play With Fire...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> characters: aang, katara

So far, Aang was pretty disappointed in Jeong Jeong as a teacher. He needed to learn firebending fast, and this process was anything but.

The fire burned through the leaf, and exploded into a ball of flame in his palm. “Look, Katara! Now this is firebending!” he cried, bouncing the fire back and forth between his palms like he was playing hot potato without the potato. So just hot.

“Be careful, Aang,” Katara warned. “Don’t get too overconfident!”

But Aang was having too much fun with it. He joyously blew out a wave of fire, but when he looked over to Katara, she cried out in pain as the flame licked her palms.

Aang leapt over to her. “Katara! I’m so sorry!”

“Ow,” she groaned again. “No. Don’t be sorry. Is this… the first time one of us has been burnt?”

“It can’t be,” Aang said. “The Fire Nation has been chasing us around the world!”

“Well, yeah, but they haven’t been able to burn us yet. You ever notice that when they firebend at us, it just kind of dissolves in our faces?” she observed.

“Or I cut it in half with my staff,” Aang added.

Katara inched over to the creek and dipped her hands in the water. “You’re going to be a great firebender, Aang. You’re the only one who can actually burn people.”

“Yeah, me and whoever did that to Prince Zuko’s face. Oh shit, suck it Zuzu!” He went in for a hi-five, but then remembered he’d burnt her hands. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. This… this is a great advantage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now THIS is podracing


End file.
